Robert Rorabeck Poems

Give to me vengeance in tight graveyards and exit
Signs- or give to me believing in down towns with unlucky
Numbers, or way to pull our of her before she even
Breathed out the cares of her first birthday that she was already real:
...

You treated her like sh#t,
And you’ll be buried next to her:
But, I ate your wife’s pus#y better than
You’ll ever eat your wife’s pus#y-
...

Scars fade like maidens into their bedchambers,
Or at least I like to pretend:
Pretend that I awaken beautiful, clay boy-
Out summering by his amusements and shallow,
...

I want to be friends- but it will mean I’ll have
To drink more.
I have a terrible craving for turkey,
And beautiful girls are surfing in the hair-lips of
...

Whatever joy that there is walks the streets
Down to the rose garden
For a single tear- or an uncoupled word beside the
Church, as blue as she is-
...

If the rivers of spikenard are blowing over her
Shoulders,
What is the tiger singing over the trailer parks while
The biggest of forest fires blows out all of
...

Worried by the hurrying news- the patenting of
Lost fights glaring in the cinders just before the yawning of
The mailboxes,
And my little dog left back in the woods,
...

Telling nothing truly horrible to the
School girls, as the snakes curl around the warm wheels of
School buses-
And I sit in between the warming grasses, hidden by the
...

Up in the candles into which she has been
Busy praying and weeping
For any boy- as the customers come in according
To custom,
...

Held the fellas in their days:
Stood straight up inside cars, as if it were
A parade,
And got drunken at the shoulders of pine trees,
...