Robert Rorabeck Poems

Everything looks alive on the other side of the canal:
Little boys, you are justified straight into kings;
And I cannot speak, for sometimes I am dazzled by
The pornographies that are right here,
...

Distilled into Mexico, the birds quiver:
There is nothing curious about their fleece; they are done,
And hung-over- they can hear the voices of
Viscous lovers speaking all throughout the wires
...

If you feel like a sliver in my side, Alma,
Where am I now,
But out of church and school, trying to put together
Better words to fool you out of his bed;
...

There you are, diving in the fashion of your choices,
Each of you sharpened into a weapon or
A tool,
Feathered, and going down: you can swim to the bottom of
...

The power lines stretch and fawn, as the airplanes rapture,
And sometimes it will rain
As I imagine my mother coming out of that little house in
Her even littler, bluer slip:
...

It hurts that your pain is gone from my day,
While the cataracts still dive across the banishing eyes
Of cars;
The puppy moves in your lap little tears:
...

I am the joy that you don’t have to feel,
Back alone with your thirsty family, don’t move a muscle:
Hear the train calling to no one;
It knows where to move;
...

Spindles of golden hooks happening in the bows of the
Treeless hills,
Or the voids that can never be cleaved; and if it rains
From her eyes, at least it is miles away,
...

The serious mountains were laughing
Underneath the sun—
They got all of their days together, or
At least they seemed to
...

I want to cry into your pussy—
I want the sun to set—
I want the day to end
Tomorrow—I want to
...