Robert Rorabeck

Veteran Poet - 1,953 Points (04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

The Great Tornados - Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Damp jewel in the hair-lip of grass or
Hanging from the obnoxious skin of a cypress-
Petty witchcraft that evaporates
And the clouds plays hooky- until another sunlight is
Gone, mumbled into the vocabularies
In the west where the sugar cane burns and the dragons
Make love to bare breasted virgins-
While, around here, after dusk, after all the Mexicans have
Gone home from cleaning our house and mowing our
Yard, the washing machines still do a strange pirouette
Trying to mimic the great tornados they hear so much
Gossip about.

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, November 30, 2011



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