Robert Rorabeck Poems

My teeth are humid:
The highway is high, licking the heels of the sun;
And I have had you in bed,
And then I went under her and bought your dresses from
...

I put your name in all of my meals:
I ride around with your syllables on my wheels;
And your besos are my wings,
When you skip around and kiss me open mouthed
...

Awakening us in the cradles and sewing fears:
The highways the lassos of her bridle gown,
The happenstance of movement that can take you all
The way to Miami
...

I have been to the mailboxes which have had their
Seasons:
I have bought tickets to see the opened breasts of witches,
And now I have my own house
...

Now you say that if I go this way
I can take your hand:
If I hop the cars and slay the dragon:
And I have been up all night pining through the darkness,
...

My false promises burn with their adolescent
Stupidity:
They have been truants again, reading Stevens in the park
Of their transcendences:
...

Airplanes like sugar cans with their
Leggy effervescence leaping over my head:
Going on sabbaticals of sunken mausoleums completely equipped
With mermaids:
...

You told me you didn’t want me writing you anymore
Poems,
But you told Charley, my third uncle during lunch,
That I was a poet, and you seemed proud;
...

Our plants rise up like green children through
The red-haired fire:
Your body is a tender brook where the fish sweat and perspire:
And you made it all the way here
...

My body feels like a guinea pig and it is not
Easy getting drunk again
Knowing that Alma is in the house of another man,
Even if it is crowded with her two children
...