Torsade Literary Space 
For sport (poem)
For sport For sport, for fun, for foraging under Nouns, you might, after stacking them, like discarded packaging… Under and among, beside, to and from… Pick descriptors out, as mots justes, pumped with the most juice To rile or please you We’ve lived so long, to learn we’ve lived, […]
bark (poem)
bark A New Science you had thought of all yourself coopted by the culture, as though your careful memoir unstocked by the reference libraries of most, could be outrun by a browse at the salad bar of information A short intro, or the first of a bulleted list of Key […]
The City (poem)
The City From a tower eye, an orange-red van Bread loaf squat Windscreen a picture, the day’s spattering weather Wiped in an arc to mimic the arena’s design That municipal failure condemning the horizon The van amid trucks that glitter with a gun-barrel coat, hundreds of white sedans bought off […]
The Tick of a Second Hand (poem)
The Tick of a Second Hand The landing gear came down And a long becalming slick Smothered the water in a broadening swath that rose at the interstice of sun and sea Vaporing in blue Fell from the rigored bird beast that in its throes shuddered and upraised its nose […]
blindingly (poem)
blindingly who looked back in hindsight and found the vista blank unable to imagine bending time to shop the 1960s Christmas Come a better-raised child, bright to the dawn of December 31, 1999 The imperatives to stray a little farther on or in memory alone, in mind Go back, in a […]
The Culture
The Culture We are important Our three-letter alphabet constructs our limited language The gravitational center draws our attention-seeking message The message is I am important Yet you don’t know me On an oxbow the current passes A fallen tree, submerged At a cross-angle, green, murky brown depths, hot from […]
Dust
Dust Dust clots on table ends A hiving manufactory within Colluding by concealment Iota by micrometer rebuking The rag itself devolves to lint A cry in code descends in sweat and skin And bakes a cake in corners left unclean Its cumbrance plods uncounted, but to be sure Fatigued and […]
