Robert Rorabeck Poems

Simplicity on an abandoned road speaking of
The thoughts left amongst the shells,
As the sunlight weeps down through the vines
Caressing the pine trees—
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Prisms in a pragmatic antechamber—the beginning
Forgeries for a new world that only awakens after everything is
Closed—
Dwarves with battle-axes stealing clothes for bearded infants—
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Gift of rainbows hear me now—I am in a place that once was
Not so far away—heavenly knights have fallen all a-tangle
Crisscrossed into the man-eating jungle of their
Absent-minded displays—
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Resentment illustrated eternally—it is a juvenile fear
That comes home alone—latchkeyed, microwaving dinner—
Expecting the estranged fascinations of
Televangelist joy: I saw you out walking out in the courtyard—
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Becoming a joy to those burning cathedrals you
Cannot wake up from—
Flying away into your elements, lactating over the ashen fields—
A single horse stammering your epiphany,
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Snow angel like a beauty mark next to the nosecone of
An airplane—where will you be swimming
Come Christmas with the
Sea boiling over with ducks headed south—
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Developments of fairytales—whatever they are—
Made to imagine the tomorrows that could not weep forever—
The miss stepping mothers reclining in pieta against
The road kill—while they sing songs—evangelical-
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I made love to your wife a thousand times underneath the
Moonlight while I was still awakening and then this
Job: half arisen into the seas of wherever—supposing you never
Collected yourselves—
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Rainstorms were ruining your eyes—
As they looked beyond the castle you couldn't remember,
All of the way up the slopes of some clouds
Like a rose garden grown over the parapets,
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Glaciers of an evaporating school yard—
Thoughts of rabbits and working girls disappeared amongst the roses—
And silent boys in the middle of their classes—
Glowing—feeling their own armpits sweating in their perpendicular rows:
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