Incomprehensible Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Incomprehensible



If I begin this this way,
I will surely begin again: a song bird awakening
With my pen:
Dreary eyes, dumbly cast- the serpent like a moon in
Her eyes, burning down with stolen light:
You see it is here again, this roiling tinfoil of life:
Alone with my dog in a house that turns around:
Not walking towards you anymore,
Alma-
Letting you steal the flowers from my grave, and the hard work
That you have won over,
Never mindful, applying to your children and school work.
Where will you go from here, but back across
The frontera- through the green fires of the bosque,
And back to Mexico- never kissing my lips
Again,
Dreaming of a Christmas that I will never sea, as I stumble
Out once more,
Striking my pen at a windmill,
And crying up to you like a snake trying to kiss a stewardesses
Who is sailing away like a careless angel
To other lands that lay unmapped and incomprehensible:
Into his bed, a runwayish fever,
Landing in the feeling that your insouciance hungerlessly steals
Away.

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Robert Rorabeck

Robert Rorabeck

Berrien Springs
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