Robert Rorabeck

Bronze Star - 2,193 Points (04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

The Little Things That Can Almost Kill - Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Tonight feeling the tiny coral snake’s gargantuan breath
Seething like bobby pins underneath the unearthed titanic:
That thing called sky or like a witch’s spell
Unspecified; and it almost seemed real, the way she was
Stepping out of the trailer and down the cinder blocks
And into the trailer parks where he waited with her daughter:
Or with her son-
The flairs of open roads that killed all of the libraries,
And the infantile tombs that sprung up like weeds:
Her eyes were as blue as the death sleeping in the clitoris
Of wildflowers;
And you know what I mean, because you’ve traveled up and
Down the spine of the Mississippi calling out my depths beneath
The arches and burial mounds;
And I’ve forgotten all the things that pretended that they couldn’t
Bleed:
You mother and father had a nursery and a house that never slept,
Until they separated and tore you in two with your monthly paper cuts
Down those weary steps:
Your toenails painted for the saints of Christmas, and all of my mouthing-offs failing you, drawn like insipid water from the venal wishing well:
There sleep the snakes in wonderful balls, reflecting in the light from
Your pail carried close to your chest;
As if they were there now, whispering like animated pictographs
Never forgetting to let off gossiping of all the little things that
Can almost kill.


Comments about The Little Things That Can Almost Kill by Robert Rorabeck

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?



Poem Submitted: Monday, February 15, 2010



[Report Error]