Thursday, May 28, 2009

justwrite 28 may

sorry to have to tell you this but that bliss was temporary the shock value will last forever in any weather there are strands of understanding and there's a landing pad where we'll be glad to fall i can call on any reference and end up with the same question there is another dimension bending around me please astound me with the right answer i am afraid to ask i take to task these samples and blend them into the wrong i cannot sing any song but that i end up with these same words i am absurdly afraid of getting waylaid backwards played like a message i am trying to avoid we are annoyed with me i am tired too you see i have messed up my recording and i will start again the part i've planned is working out differently the bits i see the songs i am repeating defeating the purpose which once was normalcy which is not a word and i need to know if this is one thing or the other because i can eat differently i can defeat serendipity which does not make sense and the hot dog travelogue will come up with a different answer i am a disco dancer the pain of remainders is strong no reminders are required the coal-fired pizza displeases the furnace in a hurry to blow by any other try i am tired and i want to know but just how far i'm willing to go for the prescription the subscription too expensive the wounds too defensive from upclose from faraway i'd have to stay out of the picture each conjecture more precious than the last and i still can not sleep with that heat in my head

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

justwrite 27 may

pausing between clauses we find
there is no chase to this tail
no end to this failing tale
i am winning and i have won
let us wait until there is more
score the evens
paint over the odds
i would like to do something else first
i have rehearsed this smile several times
out of touch with the mirror
refuse to accept this shape
the same denial

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

justwrite 26 may

almost ready but too tired to expire words gracefully they hastily rush headlong into rhyme and chiming patters of spattered consonants lulled into repeated vowels the conceited jowls of the face of confusion rattling on i was heading for meaning but it's run screaming away to stay out of the fray you'd imagine i'd say but i was going to say mix betwixt other options between the scenes but never behind for all the world's enraged with stage fever look at me i am someone almost someone else there is no health to be had no sad story to tell backward with the air conditioning on while you're wondering what that has to do with the cooler i'm bringing tomorrow let me remind you that behind you is your back and on top of that your head so instead of pulling out all the stops why not stop all the pulling out of hair of teeth just release some other tension into a different dimension for i have enough to worry my concerns about the doubts the houses divided riding up a cherry tree and stalking all the beans from an unseen vantage point pointing out the reasons why we should never respond to invitations except with special designations like stamps of some kind or calls at all hours powering through deadlines i am sorry but i will have to say yes most likely and i hope that won't be inconvenient for any reason

Monday, May 25, 2009

justwrite 25 may

waiting backward is its own reward for what has already come what has strung along each minute with you in it keeping the pieces in order for later re-telling or sideways yelling into a void into annoyed choices buoying up the chickenfat piles wondering where the while's off to hats scoffing through another endangered tributary leading somewhere other than your mother thought it ought when she pushed you onward in that cozy basket tasked with tracking each truck and trading each stick in the road for a fork with which to poke and to tune but even with the moon on the wane there's no strain to remain upright it's the night's own tale to tell well into the dark and hearkening to natural breaths left wandering in the frozen foods aisle smiling in wonder at the sundry plunderers' booty frozen into double-duty community yours for the seeking with the sound effects leaking out of bounds ground into astounding developments by a mortar and pestle somewhat inclined to wrestle the good from the chaff and to laugh off the disaster in a faster than reasonable motion shows devotion to some other power maybe not higher up waiting to fire down the ladder but a gladder existence mixed against resistance no vaccine required just cleanly fired in a kiln spilling warm goodness you shouldn't miss to believe just see and receive

Sunday, May 24, 2009

justwrite 24 may

not exactly ready for those steady messages outside the window the library is closing and i have no looks in any books left there are reasons i cannot eat your leftovers your fish sauce is costing everyone a fortune in this cookie i am trying to dye my tie and it's a formal affair to get there from here but each year there are thunderstorms and there are misunderstood norms i am waiting for the carbon-dating to begin but always it is simply the cardboard cut-outs the lunatics on latenight television who cease derision and begin division into thinner selves washing out their mouths with mouthwash not surprisingly hiding the secrets which is what they ought to do because those are not for me and you to know and to dispose of as we see fit we are given staplers and that's it and if we can't make the most of the least then we'll never get the best for fear of turning it to the worst and in this unrehearsed adventure we can hear ourselves shouting out for a cab or a cop or corn on the cob whichever gets there first will have to be the solution and with all the convolution in this experiment i can't really bear to see another animal with so much hair it makes me tired to imagine him fired for the winter and chilling all out no doubt that spring will appear just hanging out no fear life is as it should which is good enough

Saturday, May 23, 2009

justwrite 23 may

waiting for the soup to boil i will toil no longer into any sun there are rhymes undone by times like these i am breezing through ages of pages in stages many phases of confusion craft a careful street illusion cheap enough for imitation the fascination of the piles miles of results the schmaltz of such certainty the obnoxious delirium the fear of some crumbs being eaten in the path left behind we will never find our way into the past we will last into the future we will wonder how we wandered out of the present with each hesitant step neglecting to direct our finer features into releasers of positivity the smiles you see are a fib but they're short the teeth are made up but the tongue is real this feels like it's happened before we cannot ignore what our brains process but the less that's more is storing up cups of noodles and oodles of suggestions spring backward and fall into a timechanging station there is no need to feed those expectations with heatlamped clams or alligator sauce we will slosh in our boots and wonder about galoshes the oshkosh having gotten out bygosh and by hook or crooked straight they will make those rough places plain enough to scuff again

Friday, May 22, 2009

justwrite 22 may

hear that train is there is around some other bend in the fork some new york version of storks inverted like pyramids in a journalistic scheme teeming with headlines and lining up bread instead of rhymes there is no dough in such flow no season for made-up reasons squeezing into order to sort out doubt and with enough clout i could rule the clouds i could live more loudly but who wants to hear what's here there are places that are not under my feet and i would like to meet them up close with books in my hands and looks in my eyes the brows have it the dang nab it and let us all close each other's eyes in surprised disguise worrying about apostrophes and their makers are you ready to meet yours for breakfast tomorrow no surcease of sorrow no day after the novel ideas unfold let me record you let me zoom through the options adopting an upstairs apartment with a balcony a backporch barbeque possibility a rocking chair sharing the air with sweet tea fumes the loons on the lake the mistakes in the bakery we can all take our turns slowly washing the whipped cream out of our hair and wondering where we've gotten to after talking through reasonable decisions and forcing collisions with jealousy and other such wastes of time i am happy with the life you're leading i am reading more i am thinking of seeing some shrinking in my teeth expanding my eyes and disguising once again the disguise

Thursday, May 21, 2009

justwrite 21 may

holy moley the rolling pins are spinning out of control cajoling each doughy glob into crust into a rustic reminder of the finer things in life the wife and the mother cleaning up after another bothering no wind any ill spilling into confusion the illusions of sense bench pressed into distressed laurels resting on no morals quarreling in a contentious vein no gain for the wicked no pain for the weary travellers unraveling the strands of demanding paths collapsing the distance into a closer view and what ails you is a tree root poking out of the ground having rounded off the edges bent some hedges sliced cleanly by helicopter blades the faded blue of jeans too clean to keep a steep increase in the minimum wage just trying to save the time to fend off crimes to stymie each attempt at misspelling dwelling deep underground rounding out each doubt a bout of silence breeding self-reliance i will reject the wrong dreams i will join the a-team and the eighteen wheelers will squeal from the parking lot having gotten rotten with the waiting fading into stupidity i'm sorry to see what's happening there it's so unfair to be uncaring so loudly a crowd scene disrupting itself and on what shelf will you find yourself will you be high or low reachable or disgustingly dusty out of touch with a much more reasonable set of associates and the bets you place will chase you into the distance and where you end and where you land is outstanding in your field yielding crops no one wants to adopt dropping yourself on your head instead of neglecting the texting for even a moment whether or not a doughnut is tossed into your field of vision just another collision with reality we plainly see ourselves reflected in neglected mirrors grown nearer by sideview objects

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

justwrites 20 may

hello kitty anna karenin and russian literature in general wonder why you're doing that the cat the hat the reasons why i wish surprise would try harder would wonder would wander like panda bears without cares staring into storefronts and wondering what bears want maybe leaves or trees or freeze kind when it still existed before being ripped off the map collapsing the sign of the times the noisy rhymes chiming backward into an absurd lack of strength not worth mentioning like noise in the hallway waking up early with nowhere to go no racket to match to catch the serve swerving in and out of sleep wandering deeper into steeper slopes hoping the ropes will be strong enough to catch each batch baked up an apple pie caked up chalked up to opportunity the film we see playing in our heads instead of reality and there's you and me with a canopy of stars incidental guitars and crickets playing gently with invented chords the words too heavy for such a gentle scene teeming with warmth in the cool air faring well and telling all those truths to the moon

you lizard your gizzard's hanging out doubting whether this will make any sense will relieve any tense moments the show must go on the dark must re-dawn in long drawn-out hours powered by caffeine and dreams the themes of a thousand novels blooming new ideas there are reasons and there are raisins and they all need their time in the sun letting go of another hand but landing on two feet anyway the say you have the vote you grab like a cab taking you down the block the rock and a hard place chasing stray dogs for their suppers the tupperware i gave away i live to play provider i will send you all the everything i can fit in this box i will lock each stocking barrel whaling the way forward each step and onward there are no words to offer that haven't been coughed up not sloshed around not drowned in open-windowed apartments playing the parts meant for other players i will turn those pages will quash those rages by stages i will speak my mind and someone else's besides i will not hide my face to erase tears there are years that will pass and the grass will still grown the rivers flow and birds in their absurd metaphors will fly on will dawn bright ideas will open up cups and spill them over there are clovers and there is luck there are days that go on a little too long there are minutes i can't wait to begin it's the hesitation frustration the communication between hope and the present there is no tense that's not imperfect we in our own conjugation awaiting segregation from chances we will dance on three feet instead of four ignoring the obstacles and cashing in our tickets buying sandals instead heading in a different direction from our feet to the south to the east and into bed under the covers which are clouds and gently loud enough to soften the results catapulting silence into sweettea and telling me what i want to see is shared and we are never alone

wolves eating buffalo know why they're doing it but we're brewing it up in our heads instead of warming up some other way and i have to say i'm not displeased whether the buffalo have wings to string along to right like wrongs undone give me a glue gun and i will go to the moon i will cry open tunes and wander into the waitstaff asking for caf and not de asking for free passes out but not the floor not to restore like an artifact a cataract too close to repose in comfortably i can see the solution i can unite the nations i can untie the space and its seeming dreaming the answers into teaming up with each other and collaging a mother into another source of answers prancing like dancer a vixen like blitzen eight tiny reindeer and one with red instead of black nosewise keeping that bleeping doppler on course no sports or points just disjointed efforts toward winning spinning right out of control a whole stroller full of noises and none of them are real just recordings rewarding each listener's phones full of heady breadcrumbs chasing trails into the woods no failing to be good no building cabins for the rabbits have crazy habits and also two B's though not to be spelling wrong is the question is the lesson we should carry along strong-arming weaknesses from the obliquenesses of angles strangling every noise annoying the toys played with in your cynical view no truth you can keep in your pocket no teeth to lock it's too late to state claims to make names for yourselves you and what elves will carry that weight a long time it's the wrong crime to waste in my space

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

justwrites 19 may

birds and bees shake their knees to wicked tunes under the moon and around the corner the warning signs passed and lasting straight on through 'til morning dawning brighter on writers of tall tales and flailing fluently ready to go anywhere but not sure how to get it done to come unspun like a wheel congealing in unsteady spaghetti shaky on the literacy a confederacy of dunces just bunches of bananas going people up the steeple and into the sky higher than reason more loyal than treason i have seen the seasons and i have requested summer i have put in my number and drawn out the cash sufficient to last past the future always there always where we want to be the seven seas grieving the loss of the eighth waiting for the mission bells to peal to feel free and easy like a lark in the park after dark i have no need of food i live on this attitude this reliance on defiance will get you nowhere will play you foursquare none the richer for a stitcher of souls back together the heads under the weather are hidden forever like multiple choice answers by rhythm and blues dancers i have asked for some forgiveness i have baked three pies and the only surprise is the lack of surprise the reason why is the look in those eyes that are brooked by disguise a rough-edged river growing bigger by the minute safely swimming with you in it filling up falling over and over five-leafed clovers sending a little too much luck to be trucked to the dump to be grumpy in a chain gang and ankle bracelet notwithstanding a work assignment for grand-standing every inch squinched onto the big screen wearing those blue jeans like a waking dream full of the uncovering of discovery

get your hands out of your pockets and climb that ladder and rhyme that adder with a chute a caboose spruced up by pine-sol worth calling out to in the light of a bright visor none the wiser for having thought it out in advance having danced around a mulberry bush with a blueberry push broom i would like to send some mail right now i would like to entail future earnings with a burning desire for accomplishment i will call a shrink and go out for drinks like sun tea like catching me up with myself which means washing dishes which means imagining fishes in a tank on a blank slate waiting for its turn to be washed i have quashed all hopes i have forsworn remote ropes worth a lonely ice cream truck in the dark let us eat again with our hands no grease on the wheels just stealing the feeling just wheeling and dealing but what if i stopped and flopped off the rhymes climbing onto a smooth plane no pain the strain could be enormous could deform us and our efforts the words would be the best test for the rest of my entries the worries about dust rusting away untrustworthy in the swervy silence i am sampling my day i am wondering come what may wandering in tune with june and off-track toward a west-coast rap trapped in a cap gun undone by social niceties and the life you please to thank is banked on the river quivering with changes and making all the cents that a bill will when given the opportunity the immunity of the wrong strong-armed salvation saving only united nations will lead us not into federation into degradation but on into a book the looks from which are alluring curing ills like spilling over wonderlust the must and the must not having gotten all trussed up

justwrite 18 may delayo

additional subtraction
just can't give enough to take away
breaking down the deep end
propping up the middle
fiddling with the dial
tuning in the violin
the fork in the roadmap
where someone stopped consuming
blooming like a trademarked onion
the sun and other options
up for the taking
making a name for yourself
out of someone else's letters
he was a man of means well

Sunday, May 17, 2009

justwrite 17 may

it might not be her dream
steam through the night into tomorrow
the comfort level is overwhelming
let's study the sturdy stability
the nobility of the restless
they are young they are unstrung
they are drinking caffeine
this is not the end
wait until the beginning
i will call on you
brew a separate situation
designated by the number green
i will yellow you sevenfold

Saturday, May 16, 2009

justwrite 16 may

deep breaths relax the best themselves
what elves have no oxygen with which to worry
let's hurry past this stop flopping safely on the other side
ridership is down we are all afraid of the dark
park your membership card in your pocket and step up
cup your face with your own hands in the mirror
stand and deliver a shivering assessment
the stress meant to keep you alive is doing so
survival is something other than life
a quiet knife slices past the future
now it is no more

different notes boast the remotest chance of difference it was a mistake the break was just a sprain i am too draining for your opportunities i would like to apologize for not apologizing enough i would like to read a different book and cook up the leftovers into something pleasantly surprising rising like bread instead of dough going over this again and before and after some disaster appears on the shelf reaching instead for something else this is a better decision this is a to-be collision i am waiting for the previews to end and the end to start

justwrite 15 may

out with the fleet
out with defeat deceit and other rhymes
all the time i am trying to escape
it is up to me to stop attempting to solve
i am no resolver
i will call the collar blue but that's it
i will never comb your ankles too close
that's a promise
the hobgoblin of it all is the lack of excuses
the bruises i have suffered
today's standards are off the charts
let us start again
my calves are disinterested in further steps
always with the up and down
maybe i just will not react this time
i will counterattack the crimes
innocence is not a defense
the best pretense is just an excuse
the loose morals tie together myriad sins

Thursday, May 14, 2009

justwrite 14 may

let's revise to forgo surprises
there are rises to get out of raisins
staging each step
staring each tear in the fabric
right in the fabric
there are tragic outcomes going out again
wait wait wait
state your profession
profess your state
wait your turn
earn a little space
i will let go faster
i will forgive myself
i will talk about myself
even more
let me go on
the first person
first the best in this test
the rest of the lines are heretofore undefined
i follow me around with a tape recorder
i don't know where you're going to get a job
not at this late date
stay for dinner
i am looking for satisfaction
also relief
give me more of that quiet
i am craving your silence
please weave the resistance into pieces

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

justwrite 13 may

in spite of difficulty
the wheelbarrow read well
carted up the horse before gifts
look in that mouth
traveling sound for the wonderland
commanding grandstands
i am my own authority
the suggestions of discretion
let us sleep the whole night through

justwrite 12 may delayo

there was a concert it was late blah noise grassy landscapes a museum and also the radio

Monday, May 11, 2009

justwrite 11 may

world's biggest roller coaster east to wester the bester of the worst unrehearsed and ready for actual satisfaction hidden in the grass and the leaves a sense of disbelief no grief for the future unsutured from past mistakes easing off the brakes and raking in the rewards no hoarding just storage in the think tank the memory bank not worth breaking no faking those feelings reeling in buttercups and text lest the appearance of distraction at the door lead us to abhor change rearranging the lines into lazy loops while lions cry on each others' shoulders for the lack of sleep keeping counsel as each announcer proclaims fluency for all and advice galore agreement errors and more which are too mundane to frame in this enterprise i would like to start again i would like to depart from the parking lot with ice cream in mind redefining an afternoon ready to swoon in tune in turn with each burning sun strung along a necklace reckless and eager while beleaguered trolleys activate dollies and lift each fated crate onward toward its dinner date with consumption making something out of nothing some thoughts shushing each other out of the queue and believe you me there are trees that grow to hold up the sky that store dynamite at their roots computing the range of bottle rockets ticking and tocking it's too early to tell where they'll gall once we all go down and crown that chakra deep into the earth but for what it's worth i have no idea where we'll go with freedom how it leads to numbness and the wishes that come true when the sky turns blue from whatever it was before ignoring the rest and accepting each test as a chance to romance the future

Sunday, May 10, 2009

justwrite 10 may

crushed down grass passes lapses traps shoots and fires all the sticks up in a candleflame flicker the vicar is coming to tea in a different country and there is no time like this time this rhyme charges out of like a gate fated to be open at the right moment i'm a strong proponent of privacy but piracy of such decency is up to the highest bidder in these parts and i will close my eyes if it will keep me disguised i am trying to remind you of how it was never before and the story as it goes pre-supposes that i have gotten my money back on track with the letters sent and double-stuffed with scented presence the peace of mind to buy a pie with creamy lines of reason grilling our thrilling moments closer into summer when we will sleep with deep breaths lines in the sand there are too many lines to command them out of this pile while i am leaning toward sleep looking before i leap and keeping up with the tromboneses the joneses having left the building as they have every right to do and between me and you there is too much space let's chase each other's tales into the next scene no splitscreen for this one just green and clean and waiting

Saturday, May 9, 2009

justwrite 9 may

turning the page of my next book i'm looking forward to the characters and the space in between where they'll find the mirror isn't quite as terrible as once regarded there are concerns they will be pleased to walk out to talk about in the warmth of grass and bugbites are inevitable but there will also be pancakes this is plain language i mean to say what i mean i want there to be lemonade the kind from that pretzel place that tastes so real even though it can't be but it's not that kind that's so fake from dispensers at fast food places that pretends to be better than soda but it's not and we all know and when i write like this i feel embarrassed but that's the idea to let it happen as it goes and as it flows shows up through my fingers i think i write better when i write by hand first and then type but in these modern times new roman we're looking to save something like gladiators or something equating more accurately in other words the font to recall the joke the sans serif and walking into a bar we don't serve your type and the laughs graphed on a scale of red and blue lean toward the liberal the forgivable quotient mixing up what you might imagine by way of sound would turn out to be a potion but is actually an omelet in the making faking all the peppers and onions and relying mostly on cheese which is what most of us do anyway as we often say waiting for the mail to dry and the laundry to come in off the line

justwrite 8 may delayo

what's up your crawlspace there's no face worth erasing more than yours the bores stored up in your stories make multiple choice seem glorious i have no idea why you have no idea but it seems to me you seen to be in a funk clunking along the livelong day no way to reach the present just hesitant stalling in the past with a dash of future tense the unmentionable rental properties adopting the time from misaligned spines cracking backs like a maximum attack by chiropractors changing the state of our union into contusions of awkward designs and crooked straights waiting for a royal flush for hush money for the pot to call the kettle back from the stove for a grove of trees to bloom in the breeze of forgiveness the bigness of heart even through the dark parking in lots and dotting all i's the eyes you up the cupping of hands to grasp sandy command drifting away into the waves which imply summer the number of plans standing in mind lining up to earn calendar time aching for rhyme and more space with the perfect embrace close enough to matter to fend off all disaster to rattle no one's cage and to face the upcoming with a watermelon smile always in juicy style

hammer time drops a dime to the past blasts the clash of reason and fads bad to some bone grown out of step having leapt some tall building in a single bound a frown resounding too loudly no you can't touch this bliss couldn't eat it up with a million spoons ready to swoon into the future to suture together feathers and make birds the words unforgivable having been forgiven living large and encouraging discouraging news to be gone like a lake and woe to the one who takes that cake who breaks the bank and tanks a lot more than anyone can chew can blow off the handle at you can brew a bean from parts unseen a caffeinated dream to steam your senses immense drenching of relief as the end is reached beaching no whales blowing breeze in the sails to great avail still available and salable to the right bidder for after dinner

Thursday, May 7, 2009

justwrite 7 may

stand and deliver the rehearsed conversation the destination unknown and blown out of proportion the distortion much too heavy the static too dynamic for change i am chancing to dance with broken pants and shoes on my ears i cannot hear the years swaying through the calendar strained through the kitchen colander i like cauliflower but i can't stand brains the drain is enormous and i am the one drilling the hole the whole problem would be solved without me creating the space that needs to be erased grow closer in the remoter sense changing channels and handling things differently there ought to be a pledge a program a rosary to grow up in the sidestreets i have defeated each treated plane i have forgotten my name and i have given myself a blank instead the steady stream of dreams turning to water and they are flooding my toes and i imagine drowning the situation the apologies forgiving me from knowing themselves the wealth of energy spent on depletion the concretion of attempts to move forward stepping three times back i will attach with equal force coursing some sort of strength the length of each field feeling full and good and heady with the pasta of the past a carbo-loading explosion my stomach aches just imagining the food and the good news is i have turned my mouth off it is up to my fingers to bring sense to the table able to leap tall reasons with a single fall all the leaves down and the drowning notwithstanding i am commanding such a view of the bottom and the stones are smooth in my pockets locked in to metaphor but storing up the airhorns this is me and i need

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

justwrite 6 may

in the future i will style myself after a different mile marker the park in the dark keeping all the grass wet can bet that i won't light it up after the race chasing myself from the line of dust rusting as my finger draws through a pail of water a pale reflection of attention once given and now driven to fly by night the situation a sandwich of lettuce and nothing else i can not get a good bite i can not surmise the sky's intention from this direction all i can imagine is the wax peeled off my fingers stinging my eyelids as they close i grow tired of myself and my health is too good for comparison with the dares called in and truthed through the phonebooth i would like to take a class to take a pass from all these possible signals bringing alarm to the fire station creating a nation of movers out where the trucks pull up and one heady duck says thank you i have come for your everything if you will please step aside and the bill turns into a clever joke at which i will poke fun but come undone at the same time and the rhyme that aligns here wonders what the new year will bring and what songs who will sing under what stars the guitars out of alignment and the sign meant to tell you all the keys freezing up in an indelicate pose nose to the hindsight and biting off more wall than anyone can paint and the tainted soup has got a lot to answer for and please ignore me when i make sounds unless they are apologies i can not be anyone else and the shelf is overfull with reasons but i have seasons left to turn turn turn and the burning desire to light fires against the light to shut off the candle to handle the darkness better is no wetter for the rain is no softer for the pain of projection the future will lessen these lessons or teach something i can not plan for and to stand for more of the same would be insane so i'm looking for the off switch to twitch to and hurry you out of worry

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

justwrite cinco de mayo

art starts from the end of the beginning steps up backward into the unheard the disturbed version of events shuffled into immense piles and married down the aisles out of style with tea the chamomile scene not sweet enough too tough to stuff full of shells a ricotta cheese beach you oughta see within reach of the next station the destination line up toward the flood we should all rise up and truck it together the weather has got something to say about itself because why not it's got to be mentioned and all the trenches overflow with unmentionable concerns counting down someone else's days the way to stay in shape draped in sheets and meeting no demands shaking empty hands branded with ironsteel flinty eyes surprised by the revelation when the change in the station brings out new information and it's no vacation in this seat believe me and excuse these absences the lapses as collapsing concerns burn holes in the stoles you all wear to graduation and the frustration is reaching out and finding your own hand stretching back from the dark or into the night recognizing all the fingers the bringers of rings and tones and no notes worth the rehearsals the performance the conforming confirmed bets left on the table unstable as a decision meeting another collision on the way down the underground sounds fresher than illusion the truth which is fusion of lies summarized in their innocent eyes disguised again by an open book and looking for closure and under-exposure a car alarm into the mic and the spike in dips has dripped lower again scanning a barcode and picking up the tab

Monday, May 4, 2009

justwrite may the fourth be with you

trash the cash that came before the can and scan it into the gifthorse's mouth the cart where art uneven plays havoc or wreaks it while freaking out the neighbors who have just arrived having survived some unmentionable move out of a groove while hanging on the needle wheedling their way into daylight with each bright season no reasons for their calling just stalling out while talling up it's harder than it looks and the cooks baking those books into bedknobs are hobgoblins in the making faking passports out of paper planes and staining the rain to drain spinach leaves into disbelief the grief unrelenting having spent every ending of every other night biting nails and hammering out further doubts when the stomach churns in disgusted confusion reaching out for the safety of edible illusions taking big bites and swallowing all the air up there what i mean to say is there is only up but there is also down and i have got to say something or i will be silent and i have got to make mention of the menu it's a can-do approach but can you broach such a topic with subtropical beauty of mangoflavored sunset the best yet to drum its chords into scores of videos i am about to watch because they are there

Sunday, May 3, 2009

justwrite 3 may

currently in transition i am removing my bones they are heavy and tiring i am leaving in their place shoelaces and gum at the joints to keep it mostly together and the weather i could comment upon but the dawn will break bursting in mid-air and stare straight at me through my window and whatever i'll do next is yet to be texted let alone acted out and the certainty of avoiding those predictable convictions glistens in the light of various candles unable to handle much more burning at either end but we'll pretend that the deep bends of the wicks click like ticktock box scores storing up a better wetter debtor and sending him off to prison to wizen and to work perhaps by nibbing pens or some other misunderstood vocation but it'll be no vacation to put those together to weather that leather into age to stage the fridge full of potential uprisings like the least of the yeast and the best of the rest we've tested already and i'm steady on thinking i could go on without blinking but the morning might disagree and i'm trying to keep it happy instead of yappy like a little muffintop popping into lyrics you can't hear it when the creek goes down but i could drown all boredom i don't understand it i can't currently command it like many other concepts we'll just say but i'll just stay on this side of the discussion and wonder whose cousins are leaning into the dark ages and fading into the variegated textures of misused couches

Saturday, May 2, 2009

justwrite 2 may

there are spaces in place to erase the chase and catch us all up but when we stop there everything else keeps going blowing by the intersection no thought of directional impairment a stair meant for going up turns down and the ground creases its forehead instead of nodding its nose which as things go is a little hard to manage like a bucket full of cabbage boxed out and packed with trout to the highest bidder and it's a no-hitter for me because i've got no cheese to make that style worthwhile if you know what i see when i say what i mean it's a stream of sense that fences in the unconscious and makes repetition so obnoxious and i want to tell you again so don't and i want to remind you to remember to take the time to vote for the biggest loser winner of all chicken dinners a few prepared remarks put together in the dark just in case the stark contrast of guesses and reality turns out to be the only truth visible in this nation undivided but occasionally falling and calling out for a chair or a committee to spit bits back into the air and see how they run where they fall and how all the gardens grow so to speak and what tweaks my chain and yanks my chair out from under the window is the glow of confusion preceding the illusion before sense returns in that balancing act where all the high beams seem to come together and steam the weather into a magical envelope ready to elope with hope at the soonest possible chance and to dance into the next

Friday, May 1, 2009

justwrite 1 may

sweaty disposition is a glistening reminder of ho9w hard you have to work to jerk your way out of complacency the state you see you swim within united and divided like fall like a catcall crawling from the left and the right and delighting in igniting nonsense flowing from a bench meant to press a D meant to fence like a picket sign a line in the sand drawn to command respect to fend off neglect to check those balances and i have got to tell you there are more than three branches and the creek won't rise too high to disguise these skies but the new job's a hassle and the alligators won't wrassle like they used to and if it confuses you to choose your battles then line up with the cattle and chute in cahoots with some higher power a hired hand a demand for rootbeer floats for the moats to be drained and the fields rearranged like wheat to corn and soybeans to morning dawning lighter on the scale of one to ten with ten being the weekend time to climb up out of the deep end and pretend the stacks will go down and the sound will resound astoundingly reboundingly off the boards hoarding all the points in disjointed enthusiasm scoring all those needles full of haystacks counteracting depth and focusing on what's left or right of center like a bipartisan mentor reaching across the aisle with a smile and an i do when what calls you out is doubt and pushes back your snout into the dirt hurting not a bit but full of earth and the smell you can tell is at least real and the feel underheel is warm and ready for new growth