Robert Rorabeck

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

The Glorious Ways - Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Your brown body pulls me across the desert,
Just as desirable as the luck of the hares in your overgrown
You do this to me in your ways, swaying like the séance of
A metamorphosing violin:
There you are
Crenellating the last calls of a fortress like the signals for life
Over the nameless hills
And the tourists mulling like jackanapes in the soft golf courses
Of icecreams;
And that you were so rude as to bother the sky with your eyes
That way,
Whose most direct of senses found their way across the fronteras
To Texas and your old backyards,
Calling up my dreams to meet your soul;
The involuntary arrows you plucked me from across the streets
Of our work places
Until I kissed and laid you down into the newest grottos under
The chicken wire stars where the films had just started shooting,
And there alongside the carport where my mother
Worked so diligently as a saint cleaning the working class vestments,
The toads and crickets ululating to her,
Signaling as if in the husks of unbounded prayer
The glorious ways we shed off our old selves, and intermingling
Had our pleasures.

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, August 31, 2010

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