Robert Rorabeck Poems

You know that the séances were broken by trees,
And now that your children are
Asleep and thumb-sucked,
Christmas is finally laying in: even the stewardesses
...

You know that the séances were broken by trees,
And now that your children are
Asleep and thumb-sucked,
Christmas is finally laying in: even the stewardesses
...

Broken slang accruing to my elbows-
Or however you spell it,
Like yellow butterflies in the Christmas trees of
Mexico-
...

The sun was up all of her times
As she laid in her bedroom and
Prayed to a god of blue boys in football uniforms:
She was shady
...

Up- and upping the arrow-
Gutteral throats in
The Adam’s Apple:
I think of Vachel Lindsay and I want to
...

Hamburgers of plate tectonics be with my soul
As it teaches another hummingbird
About the housing market- beautiful menagerie
A thimble full of hollow bones
...

Sorrow is the next word in the bouquet-
Heart wounded without
Reason in the streets of the mortal ling
Grey:
...

Remember the traces in the shallows,
The words that it was alright
To give for one last day—
Before the last holiday of our lives
...

Then there is a womb opened in a new
Holiday,
Bright with her children and blind snow storms:
All of the wolves make a surplus
...

Palaces fed in the shadow of my liver,
I had almost forgotten you:
And this place you forage,
Whispering all of your fairytales
...