Robert Rorabeck Poems

Now does the spider dream of me,
As I dream of him,
The poisonous expectation set up shop in
The bends of cemented plumbing, vibrating
...

I once read off entire auctions to amber cemeteries,
Sitting with the vanquished armies and calcifying judges;
How so, these are the things of the past- Which the grass
Transmogrifies picnicking in shade and dabbed early light,
...

On the other part of the world people
Are getting up, yawning like daffodils ruffled by
The hyperventilating winds against the highways,
Like silken gypsies spread, beautifully valiant people
...

Even if you had a wife, surely,
She would consume more than you-
The republicanism of her inner thighs,
Consuming:
...

I can hardly imagine how
Purple and delicate the flower
I wish to find while sleeping insouciant
In the weeds,
...

Presupposing we put a ban on all that’s holy,
And the mud mucks up the land from shoulder to shoulder,
In a final and messy epoch less cohesive and malleable
Than clay,
...

Sometime soon after birth our
Deities are give to us,
Like ray guns zapping in the
Sideshows of the three-ring circus,
...

Any word can be picked,
If she carries the needed sound, said
With the intonations lilting like a great midway
Of a world’s fair:
...

I’ve said enough now to pop a cherry,
And if you had to be my sour grapes,
And I the bitter fox leaping toothily
Up from his determined elements, the dirty
...

Her eyes have purposefully stalled,
Waiting breathlessly in her carriage in the middle
Of the noon forest-
She was on her way to the eastern sea to surf
...