Robert Rorabeck Poems

When I write I write
Maybe an hour or 2 a day
but the #s stay with
Me like lead
...

Life is the cage
We are all born into
The zoo
Drives down the long
...

I am the only one who
Orgasms
An origami jungle
Screaming in papier-mâché
...

The time has not come before
And this is new.
The light is opening for the day
An ingénue displaying her bosom
...

Tables of fruit and spilling wine-
Perpetually the debutant swoons, and someone
Is off in the woods in blue socks cheating death,
And we are either studying or selling trees,
...

I own two bicycles because I still pine for you
Alma,
Even while you make love this evening, even while you
Turn out all of the hope in your lighthouse,
...

Like the dissected rainbow of abused starlets
Like the beginning or the end of my misappropriated
Hope
That I cannot see the outcome for, and yet the sea
...

I helped her down from the mountain
and we slept together in the woods.

The space between us was enormous,
...

Beyond my window
The sky blooms in a voluminous garden
The sun attends,
And there my childhood goes wandering
...