Robert Rorabeck Poems

Baby swim up to the sun—in your sweet
Boat:
This is your bedroom, and you are dreaming on
The other side of the world—
...

In the weekend—balloons, babies in the daylight,
Brown skin:
They do not wonder who they are—they have never
Been to school—
...

You need to come home to me from the
Offensive legions:
Because this dusk has no eyes, and no
Juliet—
...

Life is hard all the way around
The angels:
Even as the college blooms as it was
Paid to do:
...

I have no special roses
Or anywhere else where I can move—
The acolytes pantomime
The stars as the stewardesses leap across
...

Artform of plumped legs:
Of you climbing up to her,
Satisfied with death’s gifts: and you
Have a sword
...

There in a tweed outcome- pretending to be a
Friend of hummingbirds along their
Busy highway-
When the airplanes are milking the sky,
...

Parade in the trombones of plebian castles:
I look at images of Vachel Lindsay the day before
I leave for Shanghai:
The roads were so busy today, two days before
...

I am not going to see you anymore tomorrow-
Dancing a thunderous jig-
The same way you have never seen aspens,
Because they don’t grow
...

I do not read for you my alphabet of tigers:
It is not publishable,
As the teacher lays sweating outside with his students,
Thinking that some of them are terribly beautiful,
...