The man who wore coats and hats Con/Jur/d, 4/2/2022 One could argue he wasn’t a man rather a mechanical habit of urge velocities powered -- restarted when the old man whose face I no longer remember, died -- whose lawn my father had dictated be cut weekly during the Summer my ability to replicate switched on in order to flip from responsibility to responsible -- the same way his father had cranked him and despite their generational incompatibility he knew no other way to telegraph a message, electrically transmitting, dots -- dashes without translation, although one could make out an S.O.S by the coats and hats, I inherited since they fit the suddenly grown frame of his lawn boy, and he had no children of his own.
Con/Jur/d, 4/2/2022
Nice to see your poetry.