Robert Rorabeck Poems

Chasing through the parks of the beaver and the
Bear,
Chasing through the aspens, where the young hearts fire
Like roman candles
...

Write in a cradle of luxury:
And wait for the traffic to pass by like
Beautiful lures
And housewives in their mouths:
...

There was nothing under the airplane,
But the sun:
The sun was female and seemed to be
In a wave of sky-
...

Pretty as a nebula of an eye blinded by
A cane pole,
As mine almost was—while all of the skeletons
Got up to dance,
...

Orchards are made of men who
Cannot sleep—as fairies sleep in the cabbages and
Pumpkins:
And they drink teardrops of farmers who
...

Pranksters of my boyhood still lighting off
Fireworks across the roofs of another school day—
Like all of Mexico laughing
As they propagated and made new streams into our
...

Acrobats of Spanish glasses,
Of peat most that feed the sod and grasses:
I broke my jaw,
I broke my glasses; and the winters came and
...

Today we are looking in at the sons of Walt Whitman
And the torpedoes floating softly beyond the stained glass windows
Just on the other side of the hypocrisies of the church
That has sunken with the tears from the girl you abandoned:
...

The flesh of placebo angels luxuriates
On plastic hooks in penny candy and dime
Stores no fish in the world was ever afraid of;
And now I am all excited because I
...

cars forwards and
In back of
Me.
This life a road
...