Graveyards Of Trapped Penumbras Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Fortified wines how typically
Un-unusual you are-
The base garden of your eyes
Dirty soda pop-
Phosphorescent depth charges,
And you’ll find me alone
In weed-clung gardens-
Counting loose change and
Scars-
Nothing I’ve had to said is
Unusually beautiful-
Only but inebriate,
The birds aren’t beautiful
Either, and see if
I don’t give a d$mn for you
Usually unusual eyes-
Beautiful- cheap- eyes-
Fresh graves of brothers and
Sisters,
Graveyards of trapped penumbras.