Saturday, February 28, 2009

justwrite 28 february

let me start where you ended i'm sending my suggestions courtesy of the courier and the hurrieder he gets there we'll get squared away which is to say goodbye and how high the rope how wide the scope and a fresh mouth travels south into trouble bubbling up where we most neglect it we never expect its appointments to be scheduled so far apart and in someone else's heart we see the gas wasted the spirit tasted and found to be bubblefree unfortunately this is how it goes when the curtain shows up and the tickets can't last past this traffic jam sometimes i surmise that it wouldn't be a surprise to meet such a fate but of late i've wondered how the torn asunder gets sewn together and whether feathers can be stuck back in and how high can a turtle fly if it really tries and the sky's the limit for clouds but as loud as they are they still fall down and melt to puddles befuddling their original intentions and these dimensions match my own though i owe more than my fair share and your care as well with a ribbon around it and the wits to astound it into silence and i wish i could quiet my face and trace my grace into obvious qualities of goodness like you should wish each other and i borrow from my mother occasionally in superior containers meant for carrying the remainders of reminders like meet the challenge of balance and relax into the present which could be much more pleasant than hesitant uncertainty verging on delivery of bad news confused with blues

Friday, February 27, 2009

justwrite 27 february

i am tired and i will sleep and i will keep my eyes on the shelf and myself out of troubled dreams it seems that my head is already gone and i am still to follow the hollow walls calling out for me to knock and to tick the tock from the broken clock in the hallway outside my door the corridor of glorious reluctance the hilarious comeuppance comegotten taken like a name for a list you'd like to be missed from the jist of the message here is that clearly i have a face to save a place to rave over hamstrings and other such ligaments bent into and out of proportion the distortion hard to keep up with though such is the tendency to see tendons bending from broken imagery like headache delivery almost almost there

Thursday, February 26, 2009

justwrite 26 february

rejection in the mail never fails to surprise me which is a good sign which is fine to believe the goods of mine are of some measurable pleasurable category scattered four sheets to the squares to the window pane but there's no gain if no sending lends no bending of ears to hear the results catapulted through the kittens and smitten with rhyme we scheme for time to trickle through on those little feet foggy like a doggy jumping in and landing on at least two paws at the same time but to pause to count amounts to a subtraction of sense and the fence we've tensed up to keep it all in will sink or swim without water if you know what i mean if you see what i dream and i like that you do and you like ice cream too but you've given it up for just to see if you can and you've scanned the grocery aisles walking up and down and saying i do! i do not! and you can't pay the rent! but you must pay the rent! and here is my hero and there is the zero and the fight is to the night but then we all sit down to rest and our feet are up and our bellies full of bread and instead of annoyance or delivery i'm shivery in anticipation of the next song once we change the station reaching for the dial together and finding it soapy and hopey indeed

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

justwrite 25 february

sitting in the setting i am letting go of conflict of characters i have no style no theme i am letting go of my plot and i am point of view looking out and through and growing some new elements the sound of suggestion the lessons i won't have to teach to reach as far as i'd like and not pretend to lend sense to multidimensional models the throttle or the knot in the tree the gordian twists and the supple wrist wielding the sword swearing off the words the herds of cats scattering into the hills drinking their fills of the milk of human kindness or the blindness of leaving out doubt on a windowsill and hoping someone will pick it up and tuck it under a needy arm please forgive i have nothing ti give but the space where a pie should sit and the fumes zooming berrywild and smiling up from the tun mine and yours in messy fingers but i can still hear the fear that stole those days and i'd like to say that's done but i've run hard enough away to play this song and it's not long enough to strong along through another chase scene but i'd be happy to sing more slowly if that would work

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

justwrite 24 february

later that evening the sun rose and set in a garden upset with his shelf in life wondering how or why the growing goes by blows skyhigh but when you're the sun you have no time for such worries the day hurries you along in your way so to say you hurry yourself along and the wrong set of seasons will upset you for reasons not yet imagined the tragedy the calamity of a phone gone and while too long has passed since the clash of the titans the tidal waves have saved the day have craved carving way out of lime of time and coconuts the butt of all jokes the wheel of all spokes and the hokey pocus crocus rises into the sky shining high clouds louder than expected with the median transected with yellow a cello of a sense worth mentioning the tightening worth tensioning the stress of besting the worst and having rehearsed the wrong lines strong-armed through sickness and health and the wealth is slowly divided and fallened like a colander full of folly a holly jolly situation station the destination from which is bliss and forgiveness but i always forget my ticket i stick it in someone else's pocket

Monday, February 23, 2009

justwrite 23 february

wait in the corner for the warming trend to end because when it's cold the told-off socks are forgiven and we're living in a new age of staged helplessness the blankets overwhelming our reason and the season changes only to expose the glowing white arms swarming to keep out the light and the brightness is alarming like four fires and no waiting and i'm dating myself here but i remember when there was snow and there was some blowing about and not up just around and the mailboxes couldn't talk to each other they were too tied up and fried dried frosty when the ice was too nice to show but the growth of windwild wales on the lawn was something to remark upon from the window from the glassdoors out the back keeping track of the height where it might reach your lap if you stood up and it disappeared for this is what laps do and the snow traps you inside your snowsuit wondering what you're going to do about that igloo and what the odds of getting trapped in such a contraption might be and whether skiing is such a good theory or if rolling is where it's at and where it's going and the golden white sun laughs as you lose track of the sounds and everything is deadened and aliver and other madeup words for this state between fates the late-breaking cocoa waiting its turn for the the cereal to caloriecarry up the first few hours and the sour ache to designate the next filling like grilling cheese and a wideangle window seat scanning plans for the afternoon and the easyswoon into a nap instead

Sunday, February 22, 2009

justwrite 22 february

with more apologies than the seas than disease can hold feeling sadly madly out of place of sorts resorting to a pathetic dialectic repetition the transition between me and me and what it's all about why the shouts from my loud mouth must constantly echo seem to beckon for something more than listening but what guess could best the stress of interpreting the stagnation of ideas and i just can't fathom how to grab them up out of the net to catch and scratch out that fever that hot salt behind my eyes crying out doubts and spouting combinations for locks the shocks can't handle and the recall for sandals the summer deemed too far off but what will it be when it comes and how numb can these fingers be to snap pencils like icicles heavy with melting sense then crashing to the bench the street below hoping that no one is caught hoping that the bought and sold commitments worth no more than a pittance in reason are worth easy treason but feeling the season oncoming like water running cold and still colder in the shower by the hour hoping to fill the chill to replace the face and place a vase filled with something clearer in front of the mirror and when i apologize don't try those eyes that tender surprise feigned and the problem renamed as nonexistent for why such resistance for why such a wind winding straggly hair into my eyes and the disguise of reason wears thin sinking to swim and floundering in the deep end while pushing away from the edge thank you anyway

Saturday, February 21, 2009

justwrite 21 february

so let me shake that hand let me take that plan and bake it into a cake for the sake of all involved for the lake from which evolved clouds though this is an absurd word to imagine to be correct and the infinitives in this text are to be forgotten to be bought and to be sold with bold strokes the hokey poking out eyes and that's when it's no longer fun but the sun suggests daughters and the run in place graces the table with dinner plates of late the season has been leaning brighter and the nighter it gets the darker the sky but why are we wondering when all of our wandering has led us here has chased off fear and deliberation where are these supposed vacations that we've heard so much about that the doubt we've collected has wrecked in the collective unconscious the obnoxious tiles spread across the floor like mosaics even more esoteric the barbaric images delivered like geometry and the calumny of such words is to be heard and to be laughed at to be drafted out like a traffic cop who can't stop his shift to twitch an itch and everything's stop and go although if everything then nothing so the bussing of the tables is just another fable and this is you for yourself and the health aspect has nothing to do like flu shots and flush outs and doubts about your testing resting on a form in a file in a pile with denial all over it and the check yes box left suspiciously vacant

Friday, February 20, 2009

justwrite 20 february

i am tightly wound and i've found wounds at unexpected corners where i thought there were two lanes for passing notes and bloated boats are stuck in the gutters scuttling with t-rex arms too charming to be reasonable just a seasonable farming alarm in the corners of my eyes and the surprise is that the rise in pressure is measurable though hardly pleasurable and when i raise my eyebrows i raise the stakes and the tent flies away the mosquito tries to play but no one wants those lines no one sings those rhymes electric or slide or otherwide trailers the doublewide sailors with their minty fresh stresses i am thinking of you and you know i mean it and i'll clean it out of the locker with the shocking pink rink around the rosie pictures the cheeks flushed with flash the clash of my noise and your calm and my downfall and your curtain call i am clapping for you and you are on stage and the rage and there is no cage that can rhyme necessarily here and last night i had a dream that seemed to mean something but it was my two high schools and i was going back to the old one and the blue and the gold one although they both were and the closer i get to sleep the more clearly the view creeps back to me reaching over the corner into a triangle pose indisposed at the moment but waiting for a donut and a reason not to go

Thursday, February 19, 2009

justwrite 19 february

to confirm what you must already have suspected yes i have just won at solitaire and the feeling is indescribable undeniable pliable like playdough molded back and forth between suggested answer categories i am so lonely oh-no-ly speaking or yes i have been seeking such quiet the hand spread out in victory four little piles and no waiting with spades for diamonds and clubs for hearts and the darts swift and departing regularly dripping down the window and the thing though is the blows are not just invisible and the piles easily divisible but not quite forgivable just because they go in a row rising from small to tall to the king of it all the regression blessing an atheist's bliss with accidental holiness the water splashing up on toes held high to the sky the rising tide hiding no moss bossing no cost benefit analysis and the kiss on my shoulder is dry and scratchy and besides it is a tree branch the romance all gone out of the way and the play is resumed with the curtains reshuffling all ready to hit the deck to run to fun through the true-life drama the pausing for commas the llamas and their dollies calling out for anna's polly down the window out the tree and there was some sort of story there but the blue and the blonde and i guess now it's all gone

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

justwrite 18 february

when i meant to say i sorry i said how do you like your toast and the most likely answer would have been take a chance on dancer but i missed my cue and the ball rolled through the corner pocket and right on downtown fooling around the gutter and the sharks in the park eased its journey right into trouble and the bubble popped when i stopped that thought and i ought to make it easier i ought to order up cheesier lines and pies and surprises that aren't disappointing for it's annoying to be anointing your ears with fears and frustrations of nations united and otherwise the frying lying the pretension the detention the investigation of stations and creation of letter grades not the kind you send but the kind to lend out to cards without stamps the damp clamping down on the receivers the humble retrievers looking up in shock with empty eyes the wet noses supposing something better and to get get her the offender is too tender an opportunity when my shoes aren't even on and my song once thought too long is being played in the street suggesting earlybird retreat and the meat on the commercials makes me wonder who they're after but once again it's me it's me and the trees growing out of my hands should keep me still recycling will and power and the showers of suggestions from lessons self-taught ought to be enough for learning but the churning goes on and you don't need a taste of such bitter butter

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

justwrite 17 february

take off your shoes and bruise your clues cueing into ruin brewing splendor like fender benders mashing potatoes stating the views that we use in twos like triplets missing one the fun-house mirror sparkling clearer and more mysterious with wisteria vines and ocean rhymes with emotional times and they are a-changin' arranging the fuss like horticulturalists soothing all those blossoms these ribbons and decorative possums into vases and the places they'll go when the snow falls and calls out for trout to doubt the upstream dream scheming that one day and some day they'll walk in the sun under the gun and around the corner playing transformers with a half-sister fully missing the link between the brink of disaster and the need to reach it faster than necessary like a horse with a cart full of cherry tomatoes the wait oh so many have tried to kick off the star-spangled roof and the dark dark sky pouring down into the chimney and flooding the house with sleep as one quickly creeps out his window and escapes into the sudden light delighting in the chance to romance the opportunity the tune you see happening to sing along with itself the words once kept on some high shelf now filling up and spilling over and landing in clovers ready for the luck to set in steady as a duckling's chin set hard against the cold and scolding the down that won't stay feathered just dreaming of the nights when the moon's not tethered and the warm weather washes our hands together

Monday, February 16, 2009

justwrite 16 february

this one is for the one i am thanking the one stepping out of rank and file and smiling with no thought of reward rewording the herding mentality into a wait and see and be a grateful appreciation to you and when i think of thanking i spend riches banking on your sun the light in the swarmy murky the yuck let's just say and when i play my fingers on the keys the answers and the eardrums echo to each our own never alone and always beside nothing to hide too wide the way to separate the wait too tired never too long and a strong yes and i will say blessing which is not to mean more as in a greater pronoun though we comes to mind and heehee as if that were one and glad we are not for there are fields with high-yield greens seen only rarely by the passing parade but we've strayed into the open and anyone can tell and no trees fell and no one is listening but they can see and feel the warmth we spend freely from the bank full and wholegrain growing the pastures ungated the communities designated as available are sailable throughable and we have no need to buy and for you i offer and i receive and when we leave we do not and the leaves are clean and turned toward the sun the branches reaching out and the doubt washing away the rain the plain dealing the thankyou feeling and you're always welcome

justwrite 15 february internot delayed

in response to the sconce you hung on the wall shedding light on us all let me tell you how well true color lasts past skittles and riddles through streams and over gleaming merry-go-crowns dancing ponies and supposies all around your head instead of under your foot and the book that once was written says it's no crime to be committin' lesser offenses like breaking up fences when the out needs in and the sin should be released along the least of paths the backward math letting in the light so fantastic that the needle wheedles its way out of the haystack fast asleep with its winning ways its sharp wit its bits and pieces all releasing their albums at the same launch party and if you lunch hearty then there's no need for dinner for a swimmer to cough upstream when the themes seem to have no support when the cart rushes out before the horticulturalist missing the daisychain stems to hem and haw it back together the hawks eat ham in any weather and staying forever is more than half the battle the cattle blowing the meadow out of sheep the cheaper staler whalers running rampant like champagne glasses crashing your classes while you're just trying to pass to cash in on the crops that brought you here this big city fear that soon you will be eaten defeated and misgreeted by your brother's name though you only have a sister though you're allergic to the game of twister and twisty ties and high-flying laughs too wise to surprise too fine to be paid and the execution stayed just one last time when it's found the last crime wasn't really as bad as the papers made it out to be

justwrite 14 february internot delayed

white noise cloys on the tongue strums along the unsung hero's zeros and ones columns the challengers and the colanders strung along the catalog pages sketching for ages back from the pasture collapsing against the gates the dinner plate fantasies footloose and cheap fancies not free too easy to be consoled the rolls we're cajoled by are better with butter baked up in muffin tins by mothers who will never be seen again who will not scan the file who will not live in denial a trial by pancakes by firecracker mistakes worth letting go of getting a good throw of that weight you've got to carry that state you've got to ferry across the collapsing political borders hoarding all the orange ink rethinking the benefits of earthy red instead to have and to be fed asparagus the soup we wandered past casting a green dripping shadow

Friday, February 13, 2009

justwrite 13 february

supposedly average distractions lead factions of fingers to linger in pockets to stock up on bottle rockets clocking in and out and doubting that trout will stand on two legs for they have no such pegs and the dregs of my imagination stray far off from this destination the station master warning of disaster faster and trashing the blaster the toaster with the moster roasting on all four cylinders like dillinger and his escape plan scanning a scandal for sandals you can't handle a triangle with no point a disjointed hypothesis the bliss of twister with no missing hands no blisters with tanned heels revealing a feeling of disgust for we must improve our views and choose sense over confusion the illusions of power the doubt flunking out of attention and shuffled into detention and what i want to know is where i want to go is right here but with more space more time more continuum the delirium of misspelling the telling details like failing glances lukewarm romances and the luck that ducks and covers and flies north again for summer maybe some need to see the arctic sea though if you ask me that's not really summer that's a chilly-toed bummer a blunder like a bumper car too large for its lane like a stain too brewed too decaf too trashy too recycled too quiet like a riot with sunglasses on like a strong-armed mechanic panicking when the engine light goes indigo and the cost of defrost replacement from the wallet space meant for roses is growing more mild and the child who cannot listen and the stars who cannot speak seek each other out in the dark reaching for sparks with bare hands landing feet first in an unrehearsed symphony the sound of violins growing wilder

Thursday, February 12, 2009

justwrite 12 february

having the same thought again i'm caught again between sandals and scandals the tea cozies and the holey moley rollers the moses in curlers and the cure-all banjo team having lunches with others and bunches of brothers unrelated to the stated objectives though that's a different one and what i need is to come home and roll over into the space and chase the waste away but to stay in motion requires devotion to commotion and no sense of decorum to decorate the floor in the courthouse and the spouse having gone the way of the wind the willows the billowing billions spilling all over the front page trying for a t and a prayer a wing and a cookie and the bookie making back the taxes has no chance of relaxing while the maxing out of credit goes on sings along with breath held the melding of the tired selves the tiered elves shelving their concerns and burning their earnings in backlogs clogging up the intersections the lack of attention killing anyone who'll listen and the glistening blisters stomping up the heels feeling real enough to end but looking around just in case this is not the case not the race worth winning the wheel worth spinning and if you'll just let me know i'll go

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

justwrite 11 february

hurried minutes scurry in it's half past ten again and between the legs the hands the clocks the tickery hot pockets waiting for time to eat waiting for a seat to show itself to shelf the elf and play santa with pancakes it's better to butter to receive than to ask than to tell to give to live half-heartedly and from the start we see our better suggestions mentioning themselves into someone else's ears so when we say i thought of that the persons are switched the meanings go twitching through point of view and what i stew in my pottery barnacles are two shortcakes too high three wide and fourscore when the seventh hand is on the stand testifying for the defense will you mention the day you stayed awake and suddenly it was night and the fright was enough to bite you in the unmentionable the questionable pretensions and i'm thinking about staying up about working hard but the starred age gap says don't fall in! and the call-in show's guests are horrified at such a poorly storified fiction which i thought was a prediction but which they present with an eviction and you'll notice that the locusts' plague is way off base and the chase which i thought was on is off and the sneeze that i blessed was actually a cough

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

justwrite 10 february

don't come back on track as the attack catches your asthma grabs your camera and snaps your grandma in the shot caught off-guard like sunglasses glashing in the crash test dummies' tummies humming a lukewarm song of long-gone verses the wors is the best western and the least of our suggestions are leaning in to catch the lessons we intended to teach beyond the reach of science those tridents of sea those planet earth captain chewing bubbles creating troubles where there once were none and the sisters of mercy and their sakes alive are kicking out the cows off to the rooftop fast asleep as reindeer leap over and under the limbo stick the limber layers straying from the fold and into origami just haruki murakami and a couple of his buddies huddled around the kitchen sink watching the drops skate 'round the rink the metal shine fine and dandy like last easter's candy the senseless chocolate creatures missing crucial listening features and double ones too by which i mean ears by which i fear to say they have paid to play but are losing their money's worth on their apple pie slices the rhetorical devices wide and far and between scenes the dreams are much broader the challenges much odder like floating on your back downstream as you seem to crack open lunch on your furry brown belly and also i think you have whiskers and a tail and you never fail to say "I otter say" which plays well with others though other otters wonder why you bother and your brother and your mother try to smother those comments as they sneak out of your snout which is not to say you're ugly in face your nose is quite adorable

Monday, February 9, 2009

justwrite 9 february

in response to popular request what's next is of interest to those with questions asking for answers and the dancers on their heads instead of feet meeting a different perspective with a dual prime directive the dewey decimal admiral the morning of mourning on manila bay the ways that camp songs string along our lives and punctuate appropriately for as you see by its outfit that is not a complete sentence though a complete menace is completely reprehensible unmentionable the white knight in the elephant's room the closet broom ready to be swept off its own feet not weep under a new leaf and the book is sticking open at the hokey pocus circus with your right foot in the eye of a newt as you step right this way onto the conveyer belt turning out imagery which you can plainly see is ready to be played out sorted into boxes closed up under topses and turvy hurries under the gun stunning the bunny with its fuzzytail storybook endings blending noses into carrots and diamonds into dust trusting you will never give me what i can never accept and though my heart has lept my head has fallen off and darling please believe that i will look you in the eye as long as i can see and as fast as my legs can carry me

Sunday, February 8, 2009

justwrite 8 february

when i am done toasting the post of the down the drowning bats with baseball hats will cry out foul! and fowl! and the dowels trying to keep things straight will reschedule all their dinner dates and wait for the paint to dry for the eggs to fry future generations into conversations not worth tending and the mending tree has been lending me these books i cooked last year and to steer clear of the controversy would be worth the time to be would be a splendid way to see the world to hurl a girlish laugh with an autograph of flashing lashbulbs the eyes have it and all they want is an oyster a cloistered pile of pancakes and no mistakes to take away cakes and rake leaves away like diseases but please the court and myself too i'll present you with clean dishes and occasionally granted wishes and if that will be enough then i'll bluff my way out of homework out of planning out of scanning the week for a chance of friday of a wide-wayed path the sideways math adding up the scandalous numbers humming into suggestive rhyme schemes gleaming in tomorrow's new light the bright and the beautiful the quiet and the dutiful and my books aren't overdue to you my looks are brewed in decaf and the laugh that laughs best passes silent stress tests by besting the bending and lending missing links to your sausage vertebrate assuaging your sway to weigh less heavily on your steadily packing pace

Saturday, February 7, 2009

justwrite 7 february

where do you want to be when the sea shakes its head and says not you i want that one instead and the faces turn to your place in the line and it's fine with them but you want to whine out why but to cry in the face of fate is well too late at this point and so you wake up and try another dream and the one i had last night tightened my mind to the edges twisting on a rack tracked through my temples worshiping the disorder in the sordid corners bowing down as the long-gone gong strongarms the silence into sound and in the category of attention the sleep is not worth mentioning so it's try again and scan the darkness for a new channel and when i started to write this i was feeling lighter and the night much farther away but a little drained in between it seems and the themes of tomorrow's sorrows lean in but i push back packing them away asking them to stay in their suitcases in someone else's shoelaces all tied up and no time for these lines to interfere the clear steering the steerage passengers the natural disasters along for the ride hide their faces this time and apologize for the tries to spy fear in the clear eyes of day but i'm again on my way and i have no use for mistruths at this stage at this age this game i am the same as i have always wanted to be

Friday, February 6, 2009

justwrite 6 february

to score the goal is to hold the whole world in your command key also see return also enter also back to center with your thumbs and your hums in disjointed headbones connected to the nozone of those tones and i've had enough of those before dozing and i'm supposing you know what i mean for you've seen the same scene and song and danced your way right out of that left behind that doubt and fished for trout in a rainbow brook i looked for the book you mentioned but entrenched in the binding i was having trouble finding how to turn how to learn each step crossways and beyond the times the new roman guards of littered letters the forgetters and the spenders of our parents' over-lending out to the tree the family leans the grass green beans its way from one to another the color the number by water for chalk lit by the contrast the dashing pale yellow and i mean to close my eyes but when you do is it likely that the bikely path trashed by those passing crashers will be available will the mountain be scalable with this graph paper and this grappling hook can we please erase looks that indicate the wrong has been said and it's not the same it's not the same but no one's really hurt blowing cold air straight out hard

Thursday, February 5, 2009

justwrite 5 february

when i think of all the miles i smiled today i wonder where i wander out under the opera type high beams the shining bright lights higher than heights fantastic the light dramatic enough for curtains for certain but the fatal mistake causes the great escape train robbery where it was actually the train that vanished! and the cameras were on the gold in the hold but lo and be! and no one could see! where it all went off track! and for my next trick i'll stick you in this scene where i've just said something funny and laughter like honey drizzles into the air seeping slightly from your pressedtight lips slipping into a smile and while i am waiting for the rush of golden air and delight the night falls back and wants to try but by and bygones we'll let our be seen and be heard wordscapes traipse through the doldrums into numb rejoinders that's what the reminders have to do with make a zoo with all the characters you can find and remind them to come home to their timelines every now and then every cow extending the music into its favorite notes remote from the moon but the dish and the spoon are on better terms at this point even though the disjointed fork just hasn't got the tine to keep up

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

justwrite 4 february

swimming in a thin film of photography hoping there's no flash hoping no cash exchanges hands in the expanding expense account suits all shiny and stretchy like sharks in the park barking up the wrong express lane and what i mean to say is that there is so much you know and you know how that goes and rows up the wrong boat downstream theming mixed text messages in multiple choice voices the throats wrote more than the eyes could say that day my friend and the feel of the smell yells strawberries and cream in my bloodstream donated to all the iron pumps the lumps in other peoples' stomachs as they wonder where the butterflies have gone and the flowers and the hours that once stretched out forward forewarned of work but jerking into activity too slowly as the list goes on off the beat and the street treats its own denizens to the messages of stress testing the yellow line and what side should be good enough to hold its own and what one way is the best to lessen the load the flow of traffic too graphic for a novel too stately for a hovel and the answer is yellowgreen in the springtime but this is a riddle and to fiddle with that violin before the gift horses its mouth in the eye is to spy a crime made of rhyme and to wonder where the wandering will lead

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

justwrite 3 february

get rid of that scowl scrawled across your face erase the grimace replace the innocent forgiveness the bigness of heart darting through the open door and once more into the breach beyond the reach of tidings of comfort and joy oh boy and again the scan scams a rambling few a skeleton crew rowing rowing rowing their boat gently down past the screaming eels the steaming plates of dinner beginning again and again stranded in certainty the hurtin' these three kings of orient are shuffling out onto the snouts of pearly swine coming before throwing and hoeing before growing gardens in the fall weather the letter sent to warn of a coming storm is scorned into disbelief the relief of bleating lambs into fingers the soft the stress test passed the personality failed to no avail no letter A interests matched to letter B twinsets the rest is on the half beat not the line break the line breaks itself into two and three and we are surprised by the eyes that look back from the closet and under the bed instead of dust bunnies or hurricane leaves there're missing sleeves and the breeze is much too steady to allow the boat to drop the beat to rock the casbah the treasure trove of roving digits the biggest in the threes like the hundreds in the trees freezing their lakes like shiny mistakes breaking off like ice like conversation when someone else someone wrong walks in and spins eyes to knit disguises of youthful truthful convalescence the soap bubble essence of a leave worth taking

Monday, February 2, 2009

justwrite 2 february

out by the bye the buyers remorse courses through the golf club flubbing each stroke the token spoke broken as the wheel feels its way downstream but i've seen enough of this scene to be seen as the walkout the talked about afterparty dropout the cops out and the feel's stolen beholden to the blankets the tanks unleaded unloading their passages from mass packages and i am sorry to say that i will have to turn this down and if it was a frown that wouldn't be a problem but what it is is your noise and your toys are too loud to play with in this weather and you can't forget her broken choruses and the glorious sails he sold you on sale while the whale was flailing about trying to spout its way into the picture poured out into corrugated bedroom slippers the lippers and the tonguers hungering for relief and not just roast beef substitution because really that never works those jerks in the store selling themselves should try instead to make their own beds and eat cake to escape from france in advance of going there and faring square and far between the lean lines of clean crimes there have got to be guilty parties for the hats and all those steady confetti makers to take their turns and learn to earn their trapperkeepers

Sunday, February 1, 2009

justwrite 1 february

listening to the words i remember words i remember having heard them in my fingers shaking them out of my ears and kissing them with my lips into the air i remember whispering to you words in the thick summer dark the wet grass through t-shirts and i remember the thrill of filling up on words you gave me you give me over and again swirling them around my tongue tucking them into my hula hoops scooping wide circles out of the range i remember reading and heeding the messages the stressed syllables the unbillable hours spent devouring each morsel the metatarsals chilly but the eyes greedy the itch to twitch scratchings into hatched fulfillment the spills of ink meant to reframe a blank page a tank full on empty thoughts taught to be reasonable and yet treasonable leaning squish letters together drop punctuation and the syntax attacks its own flank a thankless task asking rewards before the process starts the heart to hearts talking up their billboards for i remember artists and i remember love and i know words and i have heard and i have said and i will sleep them into my bed my arms wide open and my pillow blank for spilling dreams the bank always full of interest twisting through the river of language