Robert Rorabeck Poems

When my corneas dilate,
The clouds grow-
Her legs get fatter,
The birds fly south;
...

And what troubles you are these things
That make you real, and hungry- The things that
Can never be fulfilled:
How you looked at her out the window, after
...

Rain looks like whisky falling before
The sunlight,
But the day is almost over and
I’m still out of alcohol- and it hurts to
...

The wind lays off its blowing and starts
To clap,
Wipes its mouth when it sees the movie is
Over; it didn’t realize,
...

Cold and almost down deep enough to see,
The sky is a blind woman clothed in shimmering
Rags;
And I am failing her- I can barely breathe,
...

Defeated by what scars mar truly,
Each paragraphs lies like sated kindergarteners in the
Tall grasses,
Windswept from a honeymoon of fieldtrips,
...

When there is lightning, I want to be close to
You, and help you gather chickens under the
Propitious stars,
And listen to you clucking what it means under
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Saboteurs make love at their parties,
Cheery and toasting, desiring the dress code of
Their bankrupt amusement parks, or holy lands-
I sit outside of their immaculately secular
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Above or beneath me no one sleeps,
The windows keep their dressing,
The shadows their creeps; and if you are the
Vision of high society
...

Marshaled into a resemblance of a plan,
Writing novels too thick and bulbous to understand-
Help me do twelve hours of manual labor;
Help me break my lease and misspell vaccuum.
...