Bearings Molasses mingle with soupcon of memory creating sweetmeat with your signature. My mirror notes the rufescent. I look for fleece. It teases me of the warmth in your woolens. Plastic is my way of bargaining with bridges that go nowhere. In this resume how do I wiretap the riot within? *First published in The Penmen Review* Whiff Whenever you drop by you leave me with a lyric. Is it the smell of your situation that stirs my olfactories …