justwrite 15 august

it is too late for the seeds to be growing in this heat i am saying that there are answers without questions in this scene we have seen we have forgiven i cannot imagine how many dishes will need to be washed when this is over i have clover in my teeth and there are four leaves left five leaves best to keep moving while the nostalgia threatens to drown out loud there are noises and rejoicing is not without its limits i am tired of having expired there is no reason for me to be and alone we ask ourselves about together weather and if it's cloudy or doubty or fine there are pancakes falling from the sky and the clouds are too high to handle in a skillet i will spill it over until you open the fridge and see what's left like a waffle squaredancing and chancing romance in the broom closet where it all gets packed up dashed out into a board with all the controls flashing out of and into the lights brighter than reason with seasons changing into their new clothes like the emperor extemporaneously shouting out about the menu and the things that should be rearranged but if you've changed behind the curtain and i cannot see i need to know what kind of shoes you'll wear and how your hair and if your smile and the style of your overcoat and what the weather will tell us