Robert Rorabeck Poems

Antelope in the rose bushes
Tangled around the slopes of tomfoolery:
There they are, prizes lost
For lovers,
...

Awakening in the joy as it happens to be
Like goldfish swimming for the bourgeois-
And her ankles
Cenotaphs for the stars that are still moving:
...

Numbness of her beauty in her shell- how I’ve
Tried crying out to her:
A piccolo underneath the bleachers at the end of
School:
...

Exactly like her resemblance crossing
After coyote into Mexico-
There she is, a mirage at the airplanes’ feet:
She will remain here
...

Whatever beauty there is- you are here now-
Like a house filled with a sad family in an uneasy
Cul-de-sac- that I sometimes remembered you
In- in Saint Augustine-
...

Honeycombed in the loneliness of a swell diatribe,
My heart is half empty and a long
Ways from home-
And, if you’ve slept in all three of my beds,
...

Honeycombed in the loneliness of a swell diatribe,
My heart is half empty and a long
Ways from home-
And, if you’ve slept in all three of my beds,
...

And it is pleasant- isn’t it- even though not
Sincere-
In another town with the chorus girls dancing
With tattoos of tears on
...

And I haven’t even been to Mexico-
And the silent thoughts are soon averagely undone
By fireworks in the ponytails
Of abandonment:
...

The wind blew to me all today:
Blew and blew like a mother of sweet ferality:
She swam and swum and couched over me,
While my birth mother was at work:
...