Robert Rorabeck Poems

They have new villages in our town- like light bulbs
Turned on over a desert of ghosts and lost
Spelunkers:
Like a single rose curled up over the bones of
...

Succession of crepuscule into night on my littlest of
Streets.
My vocabulary becomes dimmer, while the mailboxes
Shrink outside,
...

It happening or galloping up
From a graveyard of horses
There in the armpit of Florida with the
Tourism of hummingbirds-
...

Her family in the satin woebegone
As if lying down in a holiday of movie theatres:
Her family the brushstrokes of her fear,
Or my forgotten art- how it fails like matchless arson
...

Then it happened from a window looking out into
Dusk:
So many windows in a house, my car approaches and then
Moves away:
...

Abbreviated by a dandelion
And made to laugh at yourself- forgetting where
You misplaced your liquors or how
Far you really ran from the wolf you
...

What is there to say of your love- you have
Gone to Palmetto to be with your husband, to see your
Son-
And from my life, like mist rising from the campuses
...

Dogs lay brilliant beside their home:
The entire mountain has burned, and Alma has run
Away to Ocala:
When I made love to her, it was just after her husband
...

They are selling something to the black men,
As to the doors the step, and in their colors dimmed-
The swing-sets emptied behind them,
And the airplanes flying stiffed winged through the
...

Roe in the lost chalices- in the cul-de-sacs
Of suburbia where Halloween has come and gone,
And the truants fart like knights lost from
Their errands-
...