Robert Rorabeck Highschool Poems

As An Empty Highschool

Oh, I’ve looked at you from your window again:
Like a still life jogging by the fire hydrant:
That you never left the boys from that university:
Never got scarred into married lives:

The Highschool Of A Baseball Game

Repeating in the lions of the gaseous promises:
They sometime get lit up, and have their song- like girls
With lips in sleds,
They go over their boreal beds, and know when they

The Feral Mythology Of An Unfinished Highschool's Dream

Afternoons of burning up, of sorry reflection in the broken
Promises of penultimate glass,
Or whatever it is I have been up to, trying to summon you
Up from your grotto,

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