Lodged

So much blotter and spare time,
Incisions on the dark and squeals:

Research your part in the delinquency
Before sharpening an overturned edge.

Economy in the straight lines breaks cups
On the mantel: a crest of hero’s lies

Informs a flower; a table with your name
In spilled juice and vacuum time

Inside your head. Waaaa. Innocuous
Calming overlaps of sound, the hands

Dropping coins, gloves on the pavement
Doses of quaint forgiveness about

A hundred years too late. Quaint,
Squinting eyes burning halos in themselves.