Short Dragoons Poems

was not of folly, but of choice,
for saccharine safety on the higher ground
inside the wall
would cloy his sulpherous soul
and beating down his moble sacrifice
install a glutenous presumption 
of a unity unworthy of him.

No, there must be cataclysm
in  the leap, dragoons enlisted,
and a lamentation worthy of the feast...
the sighing tempered not by hominid
nor beast, but by a stubborn memory 
of infant sleep,
beguiled by nothing more
than fragments in the grass.
           ~...

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