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