justwrite 6 april

on average the disparaging rant the can't do attitude you people as we all know the flow growing like a garden the remainders rejoining repeatedly in a defeated sense winning again the instant static the traffic in the front yard regarding a high-risk dish of sets and the bets all off the table unstable catching up with peanut butter stuck in the roof a mouth two points south from a trout with no name framing regrets on the table tents the dents in my forehead keeping score storing up potatoes for ireland conspiring to break the yolk of folk music scrambling out the remains into rainbow strains of strange days indeed the weeds growing dense under my toes unmentionable worries hurrying across my dreams and themes easily surmisable hardly surprising defying the work load to pick toads from the lilacs and track elk and their ilk out of the forests and into the living room grooming the carpet for the second vacuuming the tunes will all be in line in step in locked boxes with hard-toasted muffins crumbly on the edges and thirsty for butter