Robert Rorabeck

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

My Bed Is As Empty As A Glass - Poem by Robert Rorabeck

My air-condition really works and make me feel as if
I am on sabbatical;
And I am glad that Trulio told you that I was once a teacher,
Which is so,
But I have always been a singer of these words,
Under the eves of high school, whistling with all of the drunken birds:
And my scars seem to never mind you, Alma,
While my body seems so quick and so large:
I held your little wrist spindling your little fingers today,
But you were the one who was in charge:
And I wish I knew every last dropp of Spanish for you, Alma,
For I am sure that I am in love:
Even if you say that I need a new car, I am better left unproved,
The way the green fields look un hoofed by the athletes and their silly
Tonight is my night for you, Alma, and all of the world is stilled:
Even the sea doesn’t move, and the sky is just something fantastical;
It cannot be proven; and you are the keynote of this symphony;
It oscillates back and forth against your being-
And you do not need a breast job, and everything I speak is a reason on
For you,
And my bed is as empty as a glass begging you, Alma, to be filled.

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, May 9, 2010

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