Robert Rorabeck Poems

Dying in the midday courts for awhile
We share ourselves as
We look up into the open and sunny mouths
Of feral gods,
...

Stranded through the years of my drunken
Hypoluxo,
You still might think me a little boy playing in the
Graveyards of my mothers
...

I do not want to laugh where your green-eyes are
Partners—
In the subway where you stare at my father,
And the abandoned notions of your cousins come in
...

I do not want to laugh where your green-eyes are
Partners—
In the subway where you stare at my father,
And the abandoned notions of your cousins come in
...

Not deserving the soldiers of my heavens
Here they come again-
Night and panthers and night bivouacked underneath
The stars where I
...

Unspeakably coming home to me,
Lightweight airplane touching down over the
Baseball diamonds—and in all of their
Echoes wishing to know just who
...

There is a boy who is taking a brown bag
Everyday—and enjoying the whatever savageries
That do exist
For whatever and into whatever reason
...

I awaken echoing bonfires—
It is a pretty sight—as it happens echoing fireside
Underneath the airplane's wings that set out for
Tomorrows-
...

In this beautifully imprisoned tool
Now how do your echoes sound—
Since they've
Been practicing with a voice—
...

Watching birds outside of lunch flying like snowflakes
Of sunlight whispering for other planets
Until the night is cooled into metamorphosis—
And the moon comes and shines
...