justwrite 15 january

when there's no more room left at the poles will those stalled-out souls vote for shipwreck or disappearance there's no reason to vote there's no remote clause floating about waiting to zap the short the circuit allabout the trout fishing in american streams are seeming too tired for this country these days these ways these means these committees and their unamericans their hysterical colleagues these are the times when people keep asking me people keep tasking up the list and chewing off lots of bites on hooks and crooked worms squirm in styrofoam hoping to catch a better image and when i do and if i do i can't free it there's no release and it flashes at my feet gathering dust turning to mud all the possibilities the fudgy sweetness of inaction there is no escape and the drapes close over the window and opening again the train i hear a buzzer that must be something done or coming in again a gone distance outside in the cold and the riders always with allusions the confusions of a woebegone lake the mistakes of an empty stomach and a halfhearted mouth draping lips in eclipsed formations saving nations with our luck and shucks if it ain't corn don't fix it though you know that just might be good for you and when i see you that's what i'll say and you'll play along but the song will have no answer and the chancer chaser double-spacer will be stuffed with excuses and i will ride the caboose until i change my mind