Robert Rorabeck

Bronze Star - 2,196 Points (04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

The Always Impossible Being - Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Look at all I’ve been doing to myself:
Look at myself in the darkness as it crawls
Like midgets beside the house:
See how I lean my chin back to imbibe the first
Floor boards of the coffin:
And the alligators are watching me carelessly from
The other side of the canal;
And the coral snakes are twisting up before them
Just the off color of corn snakes in
Wonderful kissing balls
Where I couldn’t find a movie tonight,
Nor could I find my love:
She is always married or taken alone down long
Muggy drives, never nodding to the castles I
Have built up like billboards-
I have done this to stop her breathing lessons;
Like a wave leaping, I suppose I have done this,
Or I am doing this again;
And down the street the kidnappers are getting lazy,
And the fair is packing up and taking away all the good
And Erin is off alone enjoying the airconditioning of
Her new car- Or her soon to be new man,
And now the roads look really wonderful underneath
Several layers of moonlight; and it almost looks like
And in a few hours the roads will look as if they are kept
By ghosts- and then they will be kept by ghosts
Until the morning comes, and the mailboxes are aroused,
And I remember dancing with you there,
Just off hand, hardly bothering the grass,
Until the morning and the dead and your truer love
Come into the always impossible being.

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, January 30, 2010

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