Some things
one finds
are too
personal
to put in to words,
or any other form,
they are
incommunicado
and will remain so
until the cows come home
or hell freezes over
…And,
on the right
The Tarpeian Rock
there,
Romans cast
their
Bankers off
Too sad to write,
wash my quill in saline
then candle quash.
Thrift shines,
lights the copper scuttle carving
a giant shadow
on hearth
matter
Fickle
Shadows
Juggle
quick, startling sun spores
A spook of
Ions
Coalesces
to unveil
Jasper Bush