Robert Rorabeck

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

The Heart In A Callous Valentine - Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Inebriations christened two same muses,
One sick and one dying-
On the evening news every mourning,
The sad calm trust I give my inability to live,
To drink socially
To compose to the sun’s appropriate attributes,
But never pretending to believe that
I am dying,
Just driving around in cars like other supposed
Gentlemen, tremulating
This way and that as I am trying to hide my scars,
Populating my amusements well into the
Bluer dark of crepuscule,
Where the mailboxes sleep, where the moon is
Rippling like a junoesque dancer before the dawn,
Rippling along the mowed park of every
Middle lawn,
While its ice-cream man sleeps; and I think of how
I should like to touch you,
Parked out in the middle of the burned hills of
North of Hollywood, nestled with serial killers
And the other heirlooms the ancestries of your
Burned out love- How maybe you almost touched
Before you flew away and grew up and learned
How to better feed the tourists
From that lascivious vineyard that goes all the way
Down your mouth
And entangles fat scuppernongs like a chain link
Fence bending down in an over sick garden
Which grunts the muddy beating
Of the heart in a callous valentine.

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 8, 2009

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