Kirsten Kaschock


Comma was misunderstood

                                                      whom her mother called
                                                      and a whore

                    her hesitation
                    in lieu of others’

                    braver—cowardice that crossed the field while considering all the while charting

                                                       the skies shot through with
                                                       whistling as she walked

                    so Comma
                    also she
                    a lovely tail
                    good head

                    she hung in the corporeal balance like shrapnel a more fragile position she had

                                                       such heart measuring out
                                                       in the midst of life’s

                    words were
                    tactical targets
                    needing release

                    Comma a tender a lover of those caged wounded she drifted through their nights/tents

                                                       /internments offering soft kinds
                                                       of solace
                                                       demurring , then allowing

                    to those
                    points :

                    representations of non-dimensional space — prisons one dimension short of bars




I believe punctuation has personality: the colon is a friend.