Robert Rorabeck Poems

Days in long shadows rejoice,
You have dressed yourself anew in long shadows;
Every morning the same trees grow like colorful bones,
Like bad children,
...

Cars churn like washing machines in the distance,
Fifteen minutes before new work, scars like bruises on my
Temples like orchards being overworked in a furnace;
And the sky going ever upward like drapes in a cathedral,
...

You kissed me like wax burning
Like something on a religious holiday;
And I looked up through the power lines,
And the jaundice cracks in the plastered sky-
...

Best to be alone in this
Listening to the jackdaws of a skull-ravaged
Thesaurus,
Thinking of no particular aunts,
...

Rains have stopped for awhile their bemoaning,
But I am so sick that I think I would like to die:
I pee in a cup,
I turn my head and cough and pretend playing doctor
...

Calling up a new sandy pilot
Where there are girls going down
Like sticks in a river
That cannot drown; so airy and so free,
...

Overgrown with careworn tundra,
The sky is yet friendly after holocaust the way
Mountains pretend to be beautiful in their
Apathy
...

Mouthing off a pace in the proximity of
Hoarse sparrows
Who should have already flown off:
Looks like its going to rain again, and looks like
...

The rains start again; it feels good to fill up this
Little world:
To be connected to the other who does not know me
By the cold;
...

Pillboxes of jovial mercury
Wrestles with modern weaponry that is past its
Prime:
This is how you begun this this time, how anything
...