Category Archives: Poetry

I turn the bowl to catch the sun, signal & concern afar the single starred infinities that are

true w from old n by the lode or the poles circle so, slow account of the scout on a rise, more reports farther wide their outline

what, gossip of Cibola, overarch, what rout antiquity, what sphinx, which symbol flown erode the wind & goes the sibyl o’er

x many oxen – one box of new axles= perplexity, no axiom reflex as exercise of pickaxe, one sore text as the next woke up Texas

or so obscure the hazards that lie either side former a, other b, simple to; more the sea misalign than a fault this old map