Robert Rorabeck

Bronze Star - 2,195 Points (04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

From The Movie Theatres - Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I am getting fat in the layovers of milkweed:
And someone is calling me—
The bottle rockets have fallen into the perpetual
Night in the serene gardens across the canal:
It is code for another kind of death,
As the dogs run their tracks, as the angels fall:
And snowflakes melt across the windshields
Of a blinded muse:
Or, I suppose they don't have to, while I am
Driving away—and she doesn't answer me—
As sunlight and water fountains
Peter to the hummingbirds—and my mother will
Have her fifty-fifth birthday tomorrow:
What will she think of that spring—
As she sees her father laying stark naked amidst
The plastic roses of his graves—
And the tourisms surround her, making her the
Higher end of a see-saw—
As the ways bask in the luxuries of her abandoned
Forts: it seems as if they've been falling her
Forever—forever—
And still she is not done, nor does she want to
Come indoors from collecting all of the fallen antlers
Shed from the kings she has rejected who go
Weeping from the movie theatres
And across the prairies—
The firelight of another man's yesterdays following
Her across the cinder-block steps and indoors.


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Poem Submitted: Sunday, May 27, 2012



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