By My Nocturnal Tears Poem by Robert Rorabeck

In the fieldtrips of demigods of cartoons
I keep going on and on while the day is spent and my peers
Get older and older until they become reprobate—
And this lands becomes a mutual fairytale
Too obscured for me to understand—and the busses turn around
And around, like solar powered marionettes that
Slow down after daylight—
And the same reason do exist for no one—
As the arrowheads re-emerge like fossils—
And the places of our joy cannot like off,
Because the wicks that I can never fear
Are wetted by my nocturnal tears.