Robert Rorabeck Poems

In my ganemede was a transom; and of course it was in
Outer space:
All of the jockeys took their positions and settled into the dawning
Of another race;
...

Make love in your
Denouement
It is almost over and then
You’ll graduate,
...

Pedro is in the sun pounding away
Wreathes:
The sun that is crenulating the trafficking
Unjulatings of the sea:
...

Worlds spume, like orgasms
Or bouquets,
And faux beauties pirouette on the
Displayed palettes like books,
...

Oh god, the pain in my overworked
Liver:
Blue collar, pushing so many words,
Sands in a bottle!
...

Too many things no longer much fun,
The rusting barrel of a worthless pop gun;
And I can’t remember when they used to
Be much fun,
...

Hunting birds scream that they should
Have seen the fish in the river,
The girls in the stream; but they have to
Settle for rattlesnake and his tambourine;
...

I don’t know sh^t: I studied enough to learn
The job,
But I forgot everything:
In the new continent where I watched my peers
...

I try to get it out,
The still life from the bottle-
Recovered from the sea,
A gift from mermaids or metamorphosed
...