Robert Rorabeck Poems

In all its ways
The land goes down,
Goes down falling as children
Float and laugh in the waves,
...

For fear of doing wrong,
I have done none for many years,
And it has made me hungry
And aware of all the strange women in the world
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Zombies and ex-presidents,
Kissing cousins, try to make friends
With little girls in bright blue bonnets
Waiting for their mothers by the bus stop
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“Meet new friends and
Become a god, ” the advertisement read,
But I was already always
Disappearing into the forest across
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Far above the adobe’s swaddled dung,
Though yet beneath the formicaed solar-system
The care giving mountain squirts
Leaping sunlight from her tit
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Give now care to the basins of the flesh,
On the day of roses spread your lips in her name,
Though she doesn't know you a single jot,
Live with her missing in your ribs,
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The prehistoric itch keepings feeling like
I should go out and fornicate in the dead-dog
Meadows with absolutely nobody,
Because if not now,
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Under the buffalo road,
Through the windy tunnels in Spain,
We lost ourselves and fell in love:
She had eyes lacquered with marriage,
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Too old to turn back,
The teenage army disbanded in the North;
Many starved, though there was cannibalism,
And after all their eyes could not move,
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Nothing kills a good western
Like a Hebrew’s ledger:
And the golden palates in the east,
The android cities
...