To Respond To Me Poem by Robert Rorabeck

To Respond To Me



There is a lesson in my body
As it catches blue gills- then it lounges and thinks of
Evil,
While the rattlesnake digests the heavy rabbit:
Pregnant and filled with magic tricks:
And even during school,
I can go out in the infinite sun and touch myself and
Watch the way that the housewives run:
Back home to supper, to spill their goods, leaving trails
Behind them of betrayed damsels,
Of little girls yet lost in the woods:
And these words form like hernia- like the soft bellies
Of fears who come to a boil in the outside world,
While the spokes turn in place:
The static motion that defines the race:
Like windmills sipping the hijinx of the sea too:
And that is where we go when we stumble upon water fountains
And our guts spill like the inclinations of roe;
And they seem to be finding their own way through the sea:
And she is there doing breast strokes underneath a fountain that spigots
Its guts to a summer murdered glade who refuses
To respond to me.

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Robert Rorabeck

Robert Rorabeck

Berrien Springs
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