Jesse Abbot has a way with stanza breaks. This is from his September 23rd p.o.a.m.:
May the drunk sun of paradox rise
in churches that banish it to Limbo & its kind.
May some limbs in which we linger nights
be there to comfort grieving mums
of war by day, the tears deposited
as honest as proprietary loversâ€™ clues. (italics mine)
“grieving mums / of war by day” has a smooth set of jumps.