Hey Dispatches,
I’m loving it.  Attached a current poem for you, troping on Creeley’s old “Walking the Dog” sessions, and two from my book.  I see, and appreciate, your figure of war.  I first balked at the trope, thinking in terms of state/global assemblages, and of course didn’t quite understand how it was coming from you.  But now I see the trope: I’m from New Jersey, where chess is a contact sport, where shooting spitwads at other students is “normative” behavior; where the middle-finger is known as the “Jersey salute,” which I taught to my son at an early age.
One question I have:  how does one address Frank O’Hara’s understanding of the decision involved in the choice between “the nostalgia of the infinite and “the nostalgia for the infinite.”  And, as you and I are concerned, how do we deal with restoring our hands. 
More later, storms are coming (weather-wise), so I need to get off the computer…Springtime in Oklahoma….