Robert Rorabeck Poems

Single pine
stranded upon a sandy hill
here you remain
in a haunted crèche of coniferous rises and valleys,
...

The day trades its dreams upon a Freudian soufflé
Until its afternoon wherein I drink hard liquor and look at pictures
Of old classmates who made it all of the way to New York,
And are doing well, with their white wives- and cats-
...

Well, the cities pullulate and strut in the atmosphere:
They are making a crystal gown out of their tenants whose tresses
Diadem with sea horse eggs that procreate a legless stampede
Into the oceans:
...

If and when you fall in love with the ocean halfway,
The sun comes up smiling, saying,
I have seen life on other planets more than twice
The distance from me to you—
...

Filing in, warm alcohol clouds my feet,
Makes my lonely spirits warm
And reminds me of the time when I slept in
Motels and hospitals alone.
...

Remember the roads that would not turn around,
The rainy cul-de-sacs and all of their pornographies—
Remember how you just got lost as
A little boy
...

Neon sign of
'Food'
Written for the blind man
He has bloodied his nails
...

passing on lies to their children
the hangdog smiles
of their own addictions
words for moon
...

Within the lactations of a suggestive schoolyard—
Memories such as gravediggers and dwarves
Conjugated from the merriment of some alcohol
To diadem my make-believe loneliness.
...