Robert Rorabeck Poems

And there they lay sleeping
So lost and so nude in a pile of limbs
Like discombobulated and
Bled roses
...

Let's give a ballpark figure when
I look into your eyes over New Mexico's desert—
Who truly was defeated in the Alamo?
I have a girl in my class who claims to be the
...

The lighthouses are uneven,
Hugging the cliffs like infants—
But at least they are beautiful,
Crippled and dissolving
...

A blistering of the hot brigade
Makes youngish girls swoon and kiss and
Gasp for love in the sweltering shade—
Their eyes hung over from mad delight
...

Put a pearl in the mouth of my soul and
Walk away—talk about hunting unicorns, even though
I know you don't have it in you—
You have never read King Arthur—nor are you one
...

How are our soul jettisoned by this gravity—
And the classrooms of our behests swarm with infections of
Insects—
I remember slipping beside you on a swing underneath
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The dozen Virgins of Guadalupe may have to make
A church out of my garage—
I have them in my house right now: in the foyer,
Atop the fireplace,
...

Even though I am about to go to sleep,
All of the souls of fireworks are in your eyes,
But they are so easily spent—
In the nights and the holidays underneath the
...

Word is the jewel in the throat of
The prism—
Lips are the arms of the sun and
There you are
...

The petering out of the substances of a heart
Stain the carpets of an imaginary threshold
Where all of the thoughts of the muses step inside
Bringing her gifts,
...