Robert Rorabeck Poems

I eat kettle corn
And exhale through my sugar twinged
Lips,
And pretend that I’ve just come down
...

This just in today:
Two match-stick suicides on the back of a
Wild brome pony:
Death and Co. &, she wrote:
...

Children who go on fieldtrips always go
But always come back again- and you are their
Mother Alma;
And there are things inside you I will never know,
...

Composures in the quiet rain,
Slicking the vociferous traffics until they
Pure demurely and finally into stillness
In their carports like castanets;
...

Basking in the glowing death,
The pantomimes surrender to our health.
My house looks beautiful when you look it
In the mouth,
...

The universe runs on your legs:
See it dressed up the stars of your limbs:
Oh,
The universe has bangs,
...

Daydreaming of grazing on a god,
Heaven seems almost possible:
Strange indescribable eyes are caught in
The teal bosoms of someone’s mountains,
...

Close your mouth and take me,
If you care to take me,
As you care, when your shift is over
At the ice-cream parlor,
...

Days begotten of firework chiefs:
Mighty good days, where tomahawks chew
Scalps red under unfiltered sunlight:
Then we knew who we were, what was going on,
...

In the callous divine of spikenard
And ambergris and bear-cats
What are you doing, but making your
Ever ready,
...