Poem Hunter
The Pumping Jungle Through Which The Red Hearts Love
(04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

The Pumping Jungle Through Which The Red Hearts Love

Poem By Robert Rorabeck

The fidelity of the day
Runs along the chrome gills
Of her highway,

The glitter of a stream
Disappears in the shade,
When she tells you, you
Do not know her.

When she slips off
For other men, your
Dear brothers,

Going around the bend,
She does not look back
But cascades

In the tangled memories
Of skin and bone laced
With skin and bone

The defeated sun
Kneels beneath the
Horizon’s teeth to
Shatter, and fall
Steaming into the sea,

The gift of the craftsman
Wasted before honed

When the city becomes the
Private detectives working
Gunned down without audience
On unseen intersections
Before all the ladies
Opening their doors,
Going out on the walk for the evening,
The skin of their legs flowing
Like running facets

Cooling the parched eyes
Of men, their bodies lighting up
The safety of nightlights
Next to the bedroom,
The doors left open,


With All the husbands gone
On very long and expensive trips
With the objects they wish to posses,

Humid and beginning to swim,
Women become the sea-wolves,
The bones of their bodies learn to
Breath through the touch of skins,
Burning through the ancient fires
Of survival

The glass roof above where
The commercial airlines
Fly, comes down

The dryads uncoil their forms
Swim through the muted clouds

Sweating, rings slip from fingers

Fangs, like roots, moisten

In dark corners paid for by the hour,
Friends make love to old lovers

Back at home,
Old lovers stand alone
Hand in hand with a


Where the sun plummets
Through the caves,
Settling amidst the wrecks,
The hopeless hearts,
Forgotten and undisturbed,
Where the greatest man lies
Beneath green green grass,

Not even an allusion of movement
In the graveyard of the deepest

Discarded by the pumping jungle
Through which the red hearts love.

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 2 votes ) 2

Comments (2)

Hi Rob A treat to see you back posting again. Excellent imagery, very evocative and captivating. I see your lay-off hasn't hurt your work any.
I liked the way you say...'I got lucky! ' The poem is very descriptive. Oh, there is one point I'd like to make: 3rd line in 2nd stanza...'When she 'tell' you' or 'When she tells you...' Maybe? Or 'When she's telling you...you do not know her! ' Nonetheless, Robert...nice work.