justwrite 3 august delayo

adirondacks stage a rebellion quelling the landscape in quiet hilaritude making up words as the throngs go along strong-arming the ocean into airy surprise there are vents and there are immense events in the respiration of a house the rousing breath of morning the decaying dawning waiting on the last cup of coffee to disappear before it feels over i am hoping for more than less i could expect something extraordinary but the scary is the wary is the opportunity to sink into sun into cool air to compare what is with what is not and we've got to be careful to stare full into the mirror and out of the window not just the telescope the escape into the cliched turning of cliched calendar pages fading out of focus and adding on years and pounds an astounding picture on the other end we pretend to see we predict we'll be in touch but so much fuss can wear out a hindsight welcome but stealthy steps to elsewhere toter onto unstable ground having found no lost cost having tossed no salads sung no ballads there is molasses and there is ketchup and when we let up we will be done we will have sung our own last dances and the chances of forgiveness drown in the bigness of the moon too soon for reflection on the present the tense too future past imperfect we conjugate of late and our verbs are deliciously bound a recipe for memory a summery film playing over darting in and out of thick green curtains taking a final bow after only the first act and pleased with the reception and ready for more