Robert Rorabeck

Veteran Poet - 1,996 Points (04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

Your Sisters' Fair Promenade - Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Ghosts of this avenue’s heredity don’t have
To be afraid-
They are never getting ingrown toenails again,
Or carrying unnecessary books.
Doors mean flat out nothing.
They hang from meat hooks,
While Pedro ejaculates to Mexico and doesn’t
Have to displace her into the sea.
My friends drowned entering her salt-lick
Carnival,
And gave her all the aphrodisiacs of her horns,
And cried softly like swing-sets
As she broke them down into their
Better elements.
She never cared, but came like a tiger in the dark
With eyes of soft tulips
Maybe like the ones I gave to Denise in second
Grade,
Or maybe the ones now trampled by the
Elephants and the hurricanes,
The beefy tourists you feed,
As you never once think to look up with your eyes
Past their usual arcade,
To see the hoods of mountains,
Your sisters' fair promenade.

Listen to this poem:

Comments about Your Sisters' Fair Promenade 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: Tuesday, December 8, 2009



[Report Error]