justwrite 26 august

finish service and keep the engine running in order to add forearms to press into the best buy the wise old apple sitting on the teacher's desk leaning into what's next and the text distorting from latin to splattering on the dishcloth the soup scooped up in greedy handfuls hoping for gazpacho but turning into stew into fresh-brewed amusement i am losing the train i am dismounting from the mountain and the debt is ready to rise to look into the tide and surmise surprise in the mirror it is clearer when the hearer is out of range is calling the audible is changing the channel from english to cyrillic named for a blamegamer struck with inspiration again the train choo-chooses to depart in pieces in the name of peace of peaches not picked freshly just imported from the local orchards clearing each branch each breath guessing at what's left and refreshing the dregs the passion the tea the free the proud the few the loud the familiar deluge of people creeping pas the street of steeples the market the square the pottery spot the slots of what's not for dinner and the traffic that wraps itself in narrow lanes rearranged for want of development for need of water and the hotter it gets the development sits softer on the ledge learning out of view until the feeling passes until the ceiling lasts its warning into a new cracked morning breaking open and scrambling on the sidewalk we can't talk about what we mean but we toss up the screen and the silk and force through ink to spread the message on a defenseless passage the northwest the explorers and all the china in fort knox locks its tea in the stocks and laughs senselessly again losing its edge