Trig · o · nom · e · try




Winter subtends an arc
perhaps of the Covenant
between us and the third parties

They are the teeth of things
various wires descend and
hold up a fragile cocoon


You met me at a risky restaurant
My first comment was that
the lowly cents by the cash register
were all stuck together, and therefore unusable

Like us, you said.  Across the street
Centurions line up in triangles
Like iron constellations, and
make a strong building


No place for my larval self,
I have watery impulses
My empire is returned to sand
my fish self is appealed to but all

the cycling containers slowly fill
Beach glass roils through clouds
suspended in brief water

No structure is safe


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