Robert Rorabeck Funerals Poems

The Funerals Of The Down To Earth World

Too many things no longer much fun,
The rusting barrel of a worthless pop gun;
And I can’t remember when they used to
Be much fun,

The Funerals Of Average Sorts

It does no good,
The ebullitions I have meant to accomplish;
It does no good this- this thing-
My soul, a prize in the crackerjacks,

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