Robert Rorabeck Poems

The cars come so tragically far away from their hallucinations:
I salivate over the candy apples of a fair that moved
Away in January:
And a girl named Diana comes to my supermarket every morning,
...

The silent ships proceed through the forsaken
Shadows of your old neighborhood:
All the places where we used to make love,
And even before us, where myself and my aunt would
...

Cheap professionals: I have something new for you:
I burn down the news of your pretty houses while the sky
Rains fire:
You know that is just what it is going to do when it is
...

We died on school buses in the rich morning of
Some indescribable consumption,
And girls loved us while we were green;
And we attended to our gardens underneath the portables
...

All the superheroes go down the rabbit holes
In the rain,
And even the traffic packs up, the recession proceeds
Underneath the greasy lamps underneath overpasses:
...

Cold is the faith of my stream; it wakes up early morning
And bleeds:
It goes straight past the tundra of your permanent schoolyards;
It wets its lips in the chalk of your urchins and spikenards;
...

A sound of a sorority so young pantomiming
What they know they must become in the courtyard:
The sun strums cavalier,
It plays over their bodices and their legs like rivers:
...

Red flowers fluttering like torn ribbons of an aftermath:
Her eyes the dual vision of languid matadors:
They have given their colors of the deepest riches to put men
Beneath them quilled and snorting blood,
...

Misplaced in a forest that I cannot tell,
Words look up as divers drown, sharp utensils
Of another day placing themselves like organized serpents
Through the blinds,
...