Robert Rorabeck Poems

The bodies of flesh always fail:
It was what they were made to do, like seahorses doing somersaults
In the brine,
Looking like they can last forever only to be dashed on the rocks
...

You really pull the course to the side,
Until all of the dogs stop running and all of the bets are off:
I really don’t know much about you,
Alma, save that I wish you for my bride,
...

Now I have really felt the worth of my dreams:
They were first golden but they soon grew into your green,
A-,
And I cant help bragging of you:
...

You looked so divine: I wonder what the world is like
In which you carry yourself: It is no more real than my world,
But it is so much more beautiful
Than mine,
...

I ask you about your family all of the time
A-,
Because I have none of my own, and because that
I would die for yours:
...

I made the sign of the cross and other
Holy anachronisms that my name could not provide,
Then we cut out of the square dance and went to a private
Rink amidst the sun-vanished trees:
...

On loan from the washbasins of mandevilla,
My scars make no pronunciations of their own:
They are the love letters to the death
And blind who fall asleep through their troubles
...

Head strong boys with championship toys
Bric-a-brac and march along,
Drumming the footsteps of a forest’s song,
Like in bed I touched Alma’s knee as tiny as a doll’s
...

These words who burn my throat like lies:
Alma says that I am a liar,
That I am always lying: but the clouds lie too when they
Seem to perceive the images of our language,
...

Your daughter’s body was sick today, and I could not
Help it
With the customers coming in and buying corn fifteen for
A dollar until my parents painted over the sign:
...