Wednesday, December 31, 2008

justwrite 31 december

when in the course of just desserts the skeleton keys open the wide ranging change of pace makers then shakers the salt below the halting verses cursing suggestive wayward goers slowing down around the corners and storming the bases until all bets are off course until the horse carts before the storage stuffed right in your face grunting in a punting pace until hike it's off to the score the store grinding into a rhythmic cheese spread all over those crackers stacking like no matter the tragedy there is an end in sight at the turn of the night and rolling over there you are a daisy a crazy shenanigan escaped from the ground brewing like a smell delicious in my ear and soft to my eye

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

justwrite 30 december

but i opened my mouth anyway and out came spiders without symmetry seeming to be spelling some sort of warning churning up a better butter but instead i spread it on thick licking the wrong fingers good and should i apologize for the compliments meant for others smothered into line like peanuts roasting in a blender lending an air of organic panic to the mix tricking all the cables and fabled stories of glorious medleys the berries and the lookingglass crashing into cashflow situations the market marked on the street and beating the pavement into a slowgo willcall stall hiding out behind my fingers but afraid not to peek i would like to tell you something but i cannot stop once i begin and again the words keep falling and my head drops with exhaustion the delivery it's all lost in the journey of a thousand words the syllables pouring into kind ears and the eyes never flash back not now but when they do and when i'm sorry even more the fear of fear itself chafes in the laces and can not be held back no matter how failing the railing is too icy to hold onto and the unglued tracks cheer as they break free though where the stop is no one knows and ringing the bell is too late to tell the engineer is studying his pants and wondering where the lines go though no one knows his are up and down and everyone else's are forward and beyond

justwrite 29 december

when you see the beta you'll want to upgrade right away want to shake those hands in closeknit mittens smitten with warmth their hearths blazing with bread and other comfort there are foods and then there are substitutions i like to breathe deeply but i also like my mouth full of taste and not just buds but closer companions to have and to chew and to draw close and be swallowed these are worth wallowing in these flings from forks forming pleasure in my lips slipping a tongue to unsung deliciousness flickering lizardly questioning sensors into the next dimension where to deny is to try to manipulate the best of times with the worst of rhymes and unpleasant climes where to climb out is to doubt the sense of purpose found in each bite the meals feeling real never stealing causes just substituting results for intuitive consultation i know that what i'm doing is i know that how i'm brewing is but the tea is the tease is the taste of a fated waist or a wasted stream of subconscious swimming a flavored sensation and the hesitation is swallowed is exercised off but not sufficiently to please the mirror though clearer than a thousand pictures is the smile meeting with potatoes or chocolate or love

Monday, December 29, 2008

justwrite 28 december delazyo

even under the dark there are no apples worth picking with these too-steady hands landing again and again in pockets like locket halves closed indisposably cozily matched the sockets worth plugging into and to bring you up to date may i state the following results which are merely the former causes listed without subjugated clauses wherefore and heretowhy when then again the prepositions not worth proposing are supposedly not growing at this time of year as the steering-clear heartache melts into its own chapter a highway disaster narrowly avoided like that story and the videotape the escape on double yellow liner notes and what i mean is there are no easy answers but love me when i'm on and i will try not to make you regretful in the next scene

Saturday, December 27, 2008

justwrite 27 december

i am no longer interested but instead too tired for a headache to overtake my yawn the wideopen stoppers popping off the top of whistles twisting the sound out of my mind and away into the subzero tomorrow it's cold and it's holding its own hand very close all the numbers slipping away in red and black suits in cahoots with royalty spoiling the meat and the plans in their scans expensive and intensive like beets dying red and surprised at the lack of stacking blocks linking the logs together in historic harmony and let me just tell you i don't know what to say or who to play in this scene but the words i've been using must be out of date must be musty and the only ones answering are cats and children and i can hear but i cannot speak the answer the chances dancing backward over the moon or some other such direction and the correction tape is too white too bright to see through and i'm telling you something but it sounds like nothing and the circle is getting smaller the road is getting staller like a miracle of distance the speed and the time never rhyming with real poetry but snowing accidental overtones and undercoats mispronounced and pounced on like fire too fast for remembrance

Friday, December 26, 2008

justwrite 26 december

driving down the road or up the wherever it's forward always but a red light a stop and rearview check is a stonyfaced passenger and she is looking hard out her window maybe her arms are crossed and they might as well be and it's cold inside and out but he the driver looks over at her and then pauses and then leans over and kisses her cheek she still looks out her window but maybe not as hard and if she thaws a little i'm not surprised and i look at the seat beside me empty and i look outside my window hard and later sometime later when a kiss is on my cheek it will be cold and a fish and the lips will not melt me and the rearview will be empty and i will wonder why for her and not for me and why the driving and never arriving because some kind of destination is worth this trip and those lips will whisper to my cheek warm and kind and i will loosen my arms open turn my face and i will smile and say thank you but for now the seat the fish the cold the blank and someone is not ready and maybe it is me

justwrite 25 december delayzo

over the river and through the channels the fishy stations we tune into spoon into open mouths like baby-faced turkey sandwiches ditching the straight-edge and wedging all cauliflower into unexpected phrases so to speak but as we keep our heads up instead of nuts and pickles we set out loose lips and fish and chips there is no end to this search the just desserts just keep finding their way onto my plate into my hands fingers mouth heading south which is the center of the earth as per usual the confusion suspected from the beginning as the title seems to point to the jointed clues showing a little elbow throw though to go forward means to step outside and the rune and hide scenario that buries you in bands and scarves and eyebrows all swept away plucked like a sorry goose preferring not to be cooked or looked over

Thursday, December 25, 2008

justwrite 24 december delayo

this is just to say late and night in the garden the midnight the cave we have to say is to mean to speak to feel i am made of a computer i am extinct i am watching the movie i am in and the swimming is like a flower underground expounding upon round robins the collagen expanding and it is impossible it is the world within imagination the staging ground of open curtains and certain waterfalls the call and response cascade the jewels of vernification destinations beyond expectation and it's too tired for an answer

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

justwrite 23 december

and who shall stand it when he planned it without anyone looking with no pancakes cooking their own backsides golden and smoldering like kohly eyes surprised by the trend of centuries to pass and the class to fail its own reward when the scored lines are missing an alto and as high as that is low there are growing beats off from the rests and the best of times with the worst of lines on their way to follow the arrows the public broadcasting dash through hundreds of yards and yellow brick cards darting their skirts and searching for an engine to carry that wait and see attitude up the hill and you think you can peaches but really you jar them which is surprising and shakes you off your ticktock rocker which is really something you should be grateful for like a great reward you started toward without a backward glance in the mirror lines of marker stark in contrast to the blank which is where your tank gets refilled freewilled and wonderful like who even cares about that hair and if the static gets you going then bend your knees and jump like a lump on a log and you know how high those kites can fly just try and fry eggs in that corner because browns like that don't hash themselves

Monday, December 22, 2008

justwrite 22 december

my fingers are too cold of being tired and the fired up eggs fry no legs to the south chasing pants and scant reasons for the season wishing for the light and breaking up green like lily pads scattered in someone's closed eyes a bathtub to run a dub drain down the painful swallows hollowing out the tree trunks to debunk scattered claims like clams in your hands and i am sorry i have no shellfish for you i'm too selfish for you and i want to make some jam from clouds and tuck it into your pockets but everyone shakes everyone's else's head instead of agreeing like they ought to but i bought through until tuesday so we might as well shake hands and make the best of this toast for most people want another chance but i just want one at a time

Sunday, December 21, 2008

justwrite 21 december

can't catch that tune in eight bars or pockets deep enough for throats coated in trench living until fifty thousand tomorrows spill into splendid color live and in living giving back to the trackstars the suits in opposite languages chasing the space into minds hollowed by accidental meetings beating the rap slapping the step with feet wheat and white and the words don't make sense in your ears but steer clear to the other side of the map collapsing borders into leaping fences not worth mentioning the awkward meetings and the street fleeting in its usefulness the soundtrack of yesterday the night before the story glorying in starch and other hardfought battlestars galaxies away to stay out of sight like planes folded too many times to rhyme with cranes the flight discordant when everyone's a winner and no one has a name but it cracks up gum and fun and bubbles float in gloating harmony that not everyone can hit and that's it the notes remote from what you want to say oh and ah and well that's what you wanted to hear so there you're here again staying out of the light for it's lime and you prefer lemons

Saturday, December 20, 2008

justwrite 20 december

backing up to the track the suit sets up a backboard to bounce off of and onto the go which shows promise but basically looks cyclical and not in a tricky eyecatch way but like a patch over one and the stunning same with the opposite aim and around and around with similar sounds on parallel rounds checking x and o off of clipboards hoarding all the answers and changing them to C to be seen and not herded like cats scattering as they fall like rain and dogs hogging all the groundcover hovering like saucers tossing all the salad into tea cups and muttering about purebred instead instances the chances of that happening tapping in repeated heated towel rack stacks warming up the oven with bread instead of the other way downtown and i mean it when i say that blankets are the best thought other than bought outright happiness sold two for a penny down the lane in someone's heart starting and stopping and hopping off when the phone rings bringing answers and always with the questions but no one's messing up or listening for that matter and other rhyming words that repeat in the heat of the moment crave donuts to treat fleeting insecurity in a hurried swirl of icing and try as you mighting the stockings come up short and the tortoise lays a hair on a pear tree and wonders where it came from because mammals mainly that's who has those on their toes but it's not an exclusive arrangement or is it and do twittering birds and wordsworth and fishes and lizards all carry that weight and for how long and in what style

Friday, December 19, 2008

justwrite 19 december

oh my goodness
no i'm sorry

backward through time our rhymes twine with blackboards and the programs can not be compromised we're surprised to be apprised from the start that the open-heart department stores have recently run out have spun out on icy curves twisted yellow curbs into the sidewalk the negative space embracing this breath of optimism co-opting schisms and diagramming pretenses the dimensions of acquaintances not yet made or paid for in full the bulk packaging racketing up the wrenching teeth the smiles out of style with what's in keeping with today and the stayfresh retention of spaghetti memories the shivery breeze of nightmarish stares from square in the meatball corner pocket well i'll sink that rocket if you like it and strike it straight and narrow on the open arrow ledge wedging availability out of the equation the surreptitious raven croaking misspoken phrases the token days he's passed perched above my chamber adorable with that messaging the stress lessons and one more time and the rattle always the walls rattle stalling out calling about nine o'clock at night which might be better news in the morning but i'm warning your john hancock that the sock's on the other foot now! and how! just yawning into caffeinated supposing the golden closing of star-spangled arches smack in the middle of a banner year tearing through with speed and without reason though i'm reading all the papers and the neighbors seem to agree with the store-front TVs

Thursday, December 18, 2008

justwrite 18 december

take him to the hospital bake him into a pie a rhinestone immediately after astoria the ascot opening day the stay in the circus tent behind the bush requesting a bus to rush delivery through the holes in the wall the stalling cubicles the musical renditions the pipes the pipes are calling and the legal aid planning consciously eluding the illusions examined by our own enterprises and i'd like to go outside but the ride is too cold too old and hard to swallow like birds the herds like cats scattering their smiles up and down the aisles and checking out the videoes the glowing stove baking up the trouble i didn't want to haunt that possibility i couldn't stop himself her fear calling all the children out to pasture the first thirst coercing a second sip the lips flipping pancake smiles out to you

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

justwrite 17 september

around about seven it was and the glue stuck to my fingers like hotsauce in a sideways mouth the north of it all piled up with bells on and shell games framed in a pretty row with laundry to go dirty again and the rising again the baking taking everyone's stomach to roost and the toaster oven buzzes with its own self interest the bank checking and saving all of those statements wasting the wantnot and catching all the criminals in their active imaginations staging the whatever and ever and why don't we just cut it here and chipchop the stopshop painting pictures of a tomorrow we're just not interested in and when we sign up to give away our secrets our answers our dances with left feet with wolves who will sign beside our names and who will claim our tickets is there room enough for four walls here when california can't refund and canada can't make you talk make you walk any sort of line well i'm doing fine in case you were asking and the tasks masking the tape issue a great escape a lake which houses fishes in their shoes with holes and the shoals all gravelly and the twine unravelly like looking glass mockingbirds never to kill and always to fill with generous donations of time and temperature awaiting the changing of the guard the hard questions for the easier seasons

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

justwrite 16 december

most hours can be eaten in this fleeting beating heart space the chase after the facts the tract uncharted carting the horse out of town on a rail flailing backward in overcrossing lanes changing drafts in mid-metaphor scoring the top of the rubric like stanley with a misplaced letter the forgetters wondering how to remember but the glass wall between the news and the toons means tuning in is awkward sloshing forward into three-part names being thrown around like testing the texting to see what passes for failure in regard to a hard to bear animal with arguments into a cave and one gets the feeling that reeling that rod-spoiled child across the commercial break getting you out of the leftover tupperware you can't care less than the guesswork and your best burst of energy slides apart your hard-earned attention and unmentionable lessons by which who means what but why should you pay attention to the drivel unravelled the travelling chance dancing backward a foxtrot you've got to see to be leaving early a churlish curl around the little finger the fits you've been giving the lack of charges on that bill got my fill of the real world and i'm turning to fiction in the missing blanks cranking out a redrawn outline of a tree and a shark and the dark's out to pasture getting in the heads instead of the lookout the game reclaimed with all the extra chips clipped onto your pockets and splayed potatoes growing out the ears and cheering up the crunch

justwrite 15 december delayed

waiting for the rating in line to be defined as a letter a number unlike any other A-1 undone by teeth or a street incorrectly numbered uncolored by smothered picking on the little houses with giant mouses grouchy too early and regularly surly on the uptake mistaken for a velvety nose predisposed to cold the chilly blowing all through the season all beyond reason wider than what you might think i've got to turn off the light by which i mean wash my hands with soap a ropey wrist kind of a habit on the edge of a seat meeting heels to toes and growing roses glowing in over-exposure the closure people seek toward the end and it's deep and creeping like always watching botching every line like it's the last tie to bind your collar and it's hot under but it's no bother the noise for the joys are endless with pretend bits of light high on the colors and blessedly fluorescent the bioluminescent urges of all creatures featured in the underwater showcase a great escape referring me out the door and what's more the whiff of a ball is all

Sunday, December 14, 2008

justwrite 14 december

let me give you some wellthoughtout ideas some perfect bows tied up around your wrists twisting out extra lengths to give you strength of purpose on porpoises on parade staying over their welcomes and helping their folsome selfsomes to some selfless help the whaling elves having given up such practices to save themselves from the sea and deceit of their pants askance in glances misnamed and unfamed not infamous just unknown like a cover blown but no one notices like a hokey pocuses princess a monkey in the middle of the monogram the catalog leapfrogging away to stay some other execution cuter than a button sewed on your shirt last year or some clearly distant time a galaxy unwinding into bedsheets the complete set on page thirty three and the treehouse can't keep up with all the papercutting and my index card fingers grow bigger over the pages staging a revolution of dancing and fancying that those toes will go along with me will grow along the sea and its shore until no more merrygorounds astound the onlookers until they only see what they expect and neglect the opposite the opossums suddenly irish trying to rhyme their syllables without mockery and the hiphophypocrisy lending extra beats

Saturday, December 13, 2008

justwrite 13 december

with my back to the oven the keys are too cold to hold in the palms of my fingers so the olives and the oil and the greenapple bubbles have just got to go to keep the flow growing fast and catching the last blast of summer the backward number up the hill on its way down sledding in the sleeting fleeting weather feathered into my coat like a thousand goats of unexplained origins bringing peas and carrots to the capital the yapping full of noise and joyous september the remembering of physical strain and the chain of a gangplank walking through the eggplants entranced by where chickens come from first and foremost and forewarned is nothing in this landscape this case has yet to be solved by a king or a common law with inherent flaws but longevity enhanced and the stance i plan to take is in favor of yes and against fancy dress except in the situation where hesitation is seen as incorrect and the wreck of the typewriter is its own reward for the scores of math cast aside in favor of language the tea steeping words into ways and i mean business here not thrift nor a shift too short for school or a tank too ruled by fuel to mend its ways with a needle stuck in a haystack or neglecting the hatrack for whose head is cold anyway not mine i'm fine just dandylion thanks

justwrite 12 december

this time the sky is filled with moon spread thick across vacant clouds surprised by the attention

not to mention the disgust entrusted to each camera lens the angles strangling the strategy where you can see the sideview of due diligence the repetition of corrections again again and a tendency to use the view as an excuse for excess the correctness of continental breakfasts the checklists that don't amount to Xs and the messes left behind when the combined charities overcome by disparities are combed over into hopeful accounting with no senseless flounting or flouting of jewels in the vocabulary crown drowned out by the steam of too much sunshine twining its tail between the hedges instead of the hogs and it's the dogs that ought to have the first turkey to trot but you've got that mostly right and tied up tight enough for supposition of another position as potentially beneficial

Thursday, December 11, 2008

justwrite 11 december

the moon is a wet on wet watercolor smothering the opposite of pigment the pigman a day no will die crying for some sleepy town to wake up and squeegee the sidewalk for the worms are having a day and a half and i'd have to laugh if you asked but for now i'm keeping it to myself and the shelf is overflowing with notes i've taken and baken into pies and madeup words mostly like cookies looking backwards into the glass ceiling chasing white habits and underground rabbits like no one's checking up the board or guessing the chess range out of style but if you tell me what the time is i can tell you where to go

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

justwrite 10 december

i'm tired of listening to excuseless views unreasonable news the truth that sets free or four more scores on air and unaware of the treason the season is unexpected rejected from tomorrow so let's start again and when i want to disappear you can hear it coming from around the corner storming the sessions and teaching the lessons on backwards guessing the stress developing from this crack in the sidewalk must end or extend into always and the trees will have something to say about that scattered brain remaining open to new suggestions the dimensions unfathomable by two like twain like mark masseting the crash course in movie-going slowing down response time but when it's an opportunity for democracy i vote yes and for chess i suggest no for the squares are always so and so and on and when i think it's time for lunch it's also time for a nap collapsing the day into a circular saw where seeing and being obscene are two different things with rhyme schemes that don't match and the hatches that grow into absurdity suggest therapy consider hypnosis and i'm looking for the closest matchbook to light a fire under that flame to name no claims and carry no weight to this date but wait until fate comes by and see who has what to say where about why and how the when ought to figure into this pen with all the little inky piggies bigger than their tails could ever imagine

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

justwrite 9 december

quiet disarray slices open the grapefruit by which i mean space and the lime times rhyme with no moss carry no cross to bear in boring beats through unswept streets and the feet that pass by the open sky are surprisingly high on the walk the sideways talk absurdly curbed like expectations and fascination worth repeating in discreet fleeting glances the chances of an echo breaking on the sidewalk again with the same image the collision of division when faced with multiplication the fascination with trials that spout into tribulations with no hesitation and the motion is subtle but the airwater bubble pops and drops a cheap payload in the middle of the road less taken the one often mistaken as yellow the fellow travelers having unraveled each backward step into neglecting the map and collecting collapsing traps like for flies or disguised eyeballs calling all kettle drums tumbling down the broken crumbs of a cake after the fact a tragic tract of land expanding its own ventures into the capital a cap full of detergent and an emergent democracy and would you believe it if i told you so and so what but the better butter has no mother and no waiting for the changing of the station in frustration in the seeking of a bleak future tense but let's not mention that let's trap our hands in our pockets and see what needs to be saved like lint from flit and sticks from chop the backwards crops of a different era to compare the dishes with vicious teeth to the wreath on your door a gaping mouth seeking more jingle more bell and a heartwarming smell to boot

Monday, December 8, 2008

justwrite 8 december

whatever they may say may do more harm than a firestorm power drill manhandled by a woman and scorned with coming attractions gleaming behind october eyes hiding disaffected eyebrows with scowls on trial and in denial of affection the collection of start again i'm sorry let me collect let me give an offering take a rebuttal for the fingers are all the talking rage the page has burned my head eyeward and the gleaming scream from the fluorescent hesitant twitches the bulbs sorrowful in its empty naked wirecrossed head the thoughts flashing backward and waiting for the pain to pass cashing in medical laziness a crazy excuse tor inactivity a tendency to add dimensions of pretension to ordinary areas of storytelling well mine was worse because and mine and mine it's all about though there are pieces of good news to use under the pillow tonight let's just check and see how those are coming along and bake our potatoes into our pockets for now

justwrite 7 december internot delayed

unbeknownst to most of the lesser-known swells the yells meant to regulate the state have fallen into quiet disarray in reality a fray of fraidy cats the frayed knots that once were strings walking into bars the cars that parked into lots of spots like millions of thirty-two per pup skipping decades and dimensions and demanding the attention of a more enlightened crowd here seen as loud and crowned with unreknowned knowledge which is a prickly one i'll have you know and a pair to go along with it a tree so to speak and too meek to tell a chamomile-styled nursery rhyme tucked in with extra slippers and fleece shishkabobs for when you think of peppers think of being open and hoping to find someone who will say yes and dress to address the occasion staged from the box and its top not trapped by dishes just glistening behind missing labels

justwrite 6 december internot delayed

cleaner air
obscener where the dust
has settled from/ down
out of/ rust/ of reach
preaching filtration
designating nations
united in stationary movement
chess plays/ monograms
stamps forever

Friday, December 5, 2008

justwrite 5 december

there's a space after tomorrow and beyond within with extra enough which means sufficient a glimmering limit a trip around the whirled winding road exploding with over-loaded devices tricycles carrying the weight of three to a wait and see circus but no one knows which ring goes first so there's a proposed purpose to lurch against and to clamber up the wall in a stall-out moment wait! she says from the sidelines but the bylines are too flashy and the methods much too cashy so there is nothing to be lost or done with just spun bits of color flying off the wheel the real deal in stolen goods and paper cuts disgusted by their own disregard hardened by disappointment the anointment with annoyance spread oily over your pores and scoring twice as fast as your hands can carry you toward the goal for the whole reason to ask last month is that trust rusts easily in a watering can neighborhood and i have got to get a different jacket to rack up the points because no one is winning anyone over and the way the rings don't phone and the lips clone former words into absurd derision leads to division from the present and collapsing on the past into a future unsutured together just flapping loosely into truthfully wayward directions without correction because anything could happen now and how and why will be undefined until the newest edition is out and the shout on the street is that the sun's in the east but no rising will be surprising until the answers meet their makers and the questions shake their takers

Thursday, December 4, 2008

justwrite 4 december

and now i am accomplishing great things beyond all description i can't tell you how and i won't tell you when and why but there are other answers like seven and somewhat and on thursdays and yes and yes and when i tell you that there are others like us you will laugh but we will make cake and take pictures and lake boats and turn nouns into verbs for we are the writers of sounds and as we sing so shall we sew and rip and reap and sow and grow long socks which shall be striped and ripe for the kicking the picking of grapefruits and humble pies with modest sauces and attitudes too rude for hilarity too nice for disparity and the smiles will be outrageous and will be questioned with ankle itches twitching their way up from way down frowning as they go toeward forward toward the next best sidewalk the sly talk of accidental overcoats and the ability to overuse words like accidental in purposeful pairings of incomparable design and the alarm clocks that often follow the teacups the handmedowns the mustard sweaters and the alligator letters always spelling a and for apple a two apple salad a three apple ballad and bananas too outrageous to avoid and annoyed or not the noise you've got coming on is sounding sweeter than a tweeterdove to me

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

justwrite 3 december

the phone is not ringing but i am listening to you and the talking the music the moon there are songs and singing can be done in color the numbers are not important now and the soup will always be hot on this channel we are the smilers of words and the singers of sleep we are the science and the art and we are we are just awake enough we are waiting for the sun to laugh at the night and say just hold on i need to take care of something first and the rainbow that happens next we are keeping the engine running but not away just ahead and your hand to hold is waving into the distance and i am coloring you with clouds and sparkling sugar with the beat the eggs scrambling all surprises into dynamic black and white static the fruit falling into the sky when the tree is about done and says go free for you are ready to fly

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

justwrite 2 december

this is why there's a goldfish in her water jog bugging all the bubbles out of their muddled little hedgehog heads breading their sonic thoughts with store-bought crusts you've got to be kidding to imagine would follow the bidding of a studebaker a candlemaker and a reclusive baboon where to swoon is immoral is totally deplorable the moral authority adding up to tragedy a mismatched hat you see laughing along a collapsible hedge wedging its wayward way along the strand handing colorful baubles out of unruly glasses trashing the contents despondent and fair and cashing out the recyclables the tricycles missing tires expiring in mired greenery the betweenery of curry with blurry lines defined by indian tradition and british ammunition for dinner party hearties like lancers on the road and a sister to hide and a closet to box it all up and to cup in a comfortable trunk an overwhelming helping to have and to hold and to want not lest we rot our spotted calves in the circus wheel hole in the wall the stalling stallion galloping in cylindrical bridle striding gallantly toward trees breezing in ten gallon two by fours scoring high marks and whistling in the dark in the sparklehorse mix tape a quaking earth with universal appeal the feeling of steeling an apple and trapping a mouthful of clouds in an accidental coffee cup trumping the steel curtain a stellar cellar for certain with no one's feelings hurtin' which would be worse for the wear in the chance to compare earthworms to rainbows and glowsticks to sunscreen

Monday, December 1, 2008

justwrite 1 december

maybe i will talk to you about the dark because it's light out when you're up and out and at and other prepositions but the night splits open sometimes and the sky falls in like a trampoline alarm clock ready to shock your heart and chart the tops spinning around clowning like a down live wire right about to expire and the tires are four and core and corps and corpse like a scene from a chinese circus with wheelbarrows laughing redly instead we shake hands and suggest alternative commands like sleep and weeping willing chillers the fonts of our lives surviving up to the third floor and beyond though under the covers there is forgiveness a bigness of warmth and a soothing of aching calves unravelling like salads or sweaters or uncertain forgetters but all i know is i need more of those scores and i don't want to lose but i bruise easily and cheesy does it like a smile stuck in a tree a four dollar portrait with a comb in your teeth picking out the transgressions and speeding up the lessons the ten cents per dance trance and i want to tell you i am trying i want to be the stronger step on the ladder but i keep eating sawdust accidentally and the challenge is to disregard the motorcycles the curry powder and the alligator shoes trying to be crocodiles though no one is fooled this time