Robert Rorabeck Poems

These are the gentle scribbles of my childcare
While I hear new cars,
And I don’t want to go to New Mexico and lose my job
Fornicating over you,
...

The bodies granulate in pistils and games while
The butterflies make love to the rainbows,
And I don’t want cable television because I will always be
Too busy making love with Alma;
...

I like the sounds you make that I cannot hear,
I try to fathom your shadows like cats purring in the rain,
The pets who are not afraid and who are the queens of men:
And I have slept on your roof,
...

Before days of empty pallets I toss these words like
Stones,
In empty classrooms where the girls have gone:
The have gone to sun in the green and Alma’s favorite color
...

I drank a lot of beer: I was the drunkest man on the boat
That left beneath the bridge where I used to meet Kelly for lunch
Months ago;
And I caught a forty-pound king fish, while the fishermen harangued me,
...

Everybody was gossiping while I looked away into the
Sea and you came over to my house in the morning,
But you would not kiss me open mouthed-
I will die, Alma, without the mirages from the wells of your caves,
...

The night is here in a private romance I have forced
Upon the stage,
And Alma knows that I cannot cook, and she makes fun of
Me for buying my clothes at the thrift
...

Grandeurs of mountains in their most solemn of echoes:
I bought my rum today nearest the airplanes,
After I jogged and had a difficult time looking at my face in the
Rearview mirror,
...

This is not Disney World- This is something better:
This is nothing that the tourists read: this is my homeless fitt,
Finally coming around to third base and then on to home:
These are my wishes making love to Alma:
...

My queen- My queen of Guadalupe:
I am singing to myself, while you are sleeping with your
Usualest of men,
In your kindliest of houses, and I yet have an ax and a forest to
...