justwrite 1 august

there's nothing to sneeze at the captain said in seek of tom swift's adverbs the phrases lazing about and blasting without and within the confines of divine comedy the problem we see in the open window and the blowing wind the nose winding its way into the square into the russian short story searching for google and finding gogol in two shakes of a lick two snakes on a stick and one says jump while the other one looks for a rope in hope of skipping dipping in and out of a sack of fries trying to disguise surprise as condescension spelling with pretension from next week's lessons there are dogs out to play and the balloons we see today have got their hearts in their mouths tomorrow no surcease of sorrow there if you ask me not that anyone's tasked me with such peaches with the reaches beyond the bat's belfry frying up the skillet and filling it with potatoes the brownbottomed style with santa fe mild salsa tossing all those bets off the table and unstable as we are we reach our cars with limited success and mess about until the next doubt's refrigerated until the next state's carbon dated and i just want to know the score i want to see what's more precious than a pile of peppers and the diapers of the diaspora growing up into pants and can't you just pretend those shoes are wingtips are eclipsed by delight are fighting back the certainty of names becoming their own people their objects their styles