Three Transactions from the Cache Register



i spend a piece of paper
arresting vagrant thoughts
that soar and drip and caper
and sleep on Army cots
i also spend attention
on getting them undense
on aiding their ascension
on helping them make sense
but they’re so argumentative
that everything’s a joke
my editing is tentative
and thus i end up broke

sore sour crow came eros (quintuple acrostic)

saints & their eclectic mercies share
old metaphors that bring a cross to bear
recursion’s curves so sinners may then go
enjoy their shadows where they’re apropos

i mist you

i drop a fog
     of passing days
on what we had
     to give a glaze
to soften pain
     and angst to blur
and make the harsh
     ness disapurr


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