Robert Rorabeck

Bronze Star - 2,195 Points (04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

With Hips Of Tattoos - Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Turning up for brail like children without any sense,
Wimpled in pieces of dismissive alphabet reaching for the
You know that is just how your bodies are, like spindles of
Golden castles on the run:
Cresting atop of my pistols, and pointing all of your guns,
The eurhythmics of cheetahs with hips of tattoos,
And your eyes far away atop of your nubile pedestal:
This is how I think of you after you have conquered,
And won over me by what you have done.

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Poem Submitted: Monday, April 12, 2010

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