Robert Rorabeck

Veteran Poet - 1,893 Points (04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

In Ganymede's Shadow - Poem by Robert Rorabeck

They all turn swell in Ganymede's shadow—
While we are all just looking out,
And we cannot see just how she turns around—
For the trailer-parks as for the nimbus:
Perpetual bodies in the tomb—
Counting and swearing by the werewolves and
The whatnots that we still live here,
And that we are all fed up:
Bodies blooming in the clover hoping to win
The four-leaf lottery,
Spelling out of the love letters that are all thumbs:
Until finally that fine mother cat has given birth to
Kittens: kittens—underneath the brightest lights
Of the midwives of the séances—
Of the aphrodisiacs of the candelabrums of the waves—
Of a I don't know what else—
Except for the preternatural existence of their
Nature—life right here—nude and showing off in
Color—
Soon to be reborn without nuclear remembrances:
If just enough to spread the nebula upon the palate:
A day light, a dilemma—
And another yard amassed that doesn't belong
To the bedded light of the dreams
That sway upon the cobwebs of the headlights of
The nebulas—that there remains always a tomorrow
That forgets most of itself—and even though
The waves come and go so beautiful—
They are yet no so swift to dream.

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, August 16, 2012

Poem Edited: Friday, August 17, 2012


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