Lew Caccia

#70 February 2019, 2019

For as Long as I Live by Lew Caccia

Let me sow love, I state before apathy, the indifferent touch I grasped, blanching forth the bone of its chill, profligate and scant bespeaking warmth, the bravura of style— let me not give up this day without redemption. Here, I persevere as refugee, perchance, in someone else’s field? It’s dark, for sure, the way is

#67 May 2018, 2018

From Scottish Dialect by Lew Caccia

Whenever I think, some notion in the cloud or other confluence that floats the mooring will seize upon the wonderful convenience, joukery-pawkery. That bluster, “To duck, to dodge,” has danced into its corner so few adherents. Like a hollow barrel the empty drum thinly porous, joukery-pawkery. I keep seeking that latent horizon beyond a rip

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