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