Robert Rorabeck Poems

Homeless in the low hanging clouds,
Baseball players without any clothes; and I don’t
Know where this is going,
Except to the inevitable whore house;
...

Off on the road of too many sparrows, like the lunchtime
Of your lovemaking in the hangovers of tomorrows:
Your pretty family practically taking up the entire swings:
Your grinning daughters, and your sonny kings:
...

Children playing outside the broken fences
Of guitar strings;
And we have lions, but I cannot find anyone here:
There are beautiful singers too, and poet laureates
...

Long shouts of glory through the forest
Even still die away:
The sky is cold and gray, and your buttercup orifices
Have been trounced into the path by the drunken soldiers
...

Lord over me in the funny spaces only you
Perceive,
Peeking in between and moting the wings of airplanes;
And I will just be down caracoling in the zoo,
...

Perfect young couples come in for open houses:
They are lorded over me by what maybe a wicked godmother:
I am not sure:
I am just happily sleeping with the litter of foxes in the aloe
...

If I go away and leave her to sell fireworks in
New Mexico,
Guys will start jumping all over her like rats leaving
A drowning ship;
...

Pallbearers, pallbearers
Bring me on home, for my dream is done roaming:
Take me to the copper kettle, take me to the
Iron stove,
...

Forget the yellow light:
Forget butterflies and the Mexican slang for
Rainbows:
Forget the nursery and the tourists who come
...