Robert Rorabeck Poems

No one is getting any closer than
This, and the airplanes
Are taking off to somewhere I cannot believe—
The words are gone like
...

The classrooms laugh—it is getting as high
As a ferris wheel on Valentines—
Someone is mouthing off—the principal is
Coming like the big bad wolf for
...

Sun, a scandalous thing over the movie theatre—
Is it even up after I have gone home,
Begun to cross my legs and drink rum
While my dog sleeps beside me,
...

They said there was a most beautiful
Chance happening just a stone's throw
Over her shoulders—
Until all of the baseball games let out,
...

Lions who are alive in an apiary of
Sadomasochism worshiping the sunlight as
The very same tourists watch them
Again and again—
...

In days after Christmases are dead,
And in houses where no marriages happened—
Ghosts, cantankerous and green,
Filling out the apertures beneath the satellites
...

Blame causes the sun to fall from the sky—
He is in love with someone else.
The sky is his wife whom he does not love—
She has gone shopping leaving him
...

Flowers given to pen names and other
Mirages—
The savage boys who wear headdresses of
The most religious feathers,
...

Houses of glad kisses strung out
Perpetually through the forest—
Greatly seeding the lost paths of vanishing children—
Here, they can find one last story for them—
...

Disillusions start out in
A bedroom drinking rum—
In a little yellow house made out of one brick
Of the sun—
...