Robert Rorabeck Poems

As a course, these people spill their desires far beneath
The sun:
This is the way they’ve been doing it since the world was
Young,
...

Abusing themselves by the other planets at their
Games,
The conquistadors falling down the hills like mumbling ants,
And nothing that was sure footed is any longer:
...

Combining the alchemy of paddleboats across the
Torpid acrobatics of the a living room’s holiday, waiting for
All the yawning mouths of lions
And water moccasins to close, for the stolen bicycles of
...

The milk of satin estuaries and of the milk men—
Who may or may not have been your father,
While we were abandoning your households on
Holidays—and the greater tenements seemed to sing
...

I spend a day without loneliness,
And I can finally be comfortable with someone who
Can take me away,
Even though I go to the movies and theatre hop in
...

The sea by the waves of nowhere- -
I am a corpse,
Drinking rum and eating pizza,
As the night fans out,
...

It rains in my garage as the clouds come down
Over some nameless guy riding his bicycle,
But it becomes so easy, because there are no mountains;
And all of my dogs are missing,
...

Poems of distractions like Ferris Wheels
Who are only here two weeks in
February—
Like my muse's love for me—
...

Massive bends of yellow gold,
The incest of falling cupbearers, and the winter’s
Boiling,
The foals unfold and everything becomes less cherished:
...

It now feels alright to wet my throat on the letters
Of a jaundice mind:
Now that the cars will move, the planes will fly;
And there is nothing more so professional that I can
...