post 12 october

justwrite 12 october

I have got to clock this rock tock this stopwatch I am caught in the crosswalk and the ticktock sunflower power of seeds in my teeth multiplies disguising the surprise I thought I felt in my fingers kept lingering over a trigger bigger and badder than the maddest hare you ever did pull out of your rushing brush out of touch with the hole falling in through the whole out of touch with the rolling blackouts the track shouts its forgiveness and I am ready to accept the intellect collecting here is out of touch the machine we preen and carry in our arms is no help with this wealth of ignorance in the bigness of the moment the size surprises even the softest listener glistening in a thousand reflections the conversion not yet charted the train not yet departed from another station the information gathered just a smattering of small matters gathered in surprise the ayes have not got it together the wise are subtracting extra letters keeping their slippers on and their apples tied tight my clothes are fresh and made of air kept crisp like the ironless hand of a wrinkly man the settlement is ready to be retrieved too young to be believed but it is mature it is sure and tidy and the neatness hiding within is ready to begin again like the sense looking to make itself out of nearby spare parts


justwrite 11 october

now it’s time to climb into the tree and to sack all the socks to keep up the stock we are wondering where we are wandering all our pondering is for naught we ought to keep up but the stuff of dreams is caramel cream with sugar in the middle and to fiddle with three fingers is to twiddle one thumb coming undone like a blanket in the night held tight by some distant sleeper rolling over and over the ocean bonnie like a prince like a filly running hither and yon and on and beyond the calm the fall like a tide an ocean of closing in tighter then drifting like sand in between hands planted like a plant and pulled like a pulley there are things so clear we can’t even see them we know them like our own we skin our own home planet and can it to keep it like a secret place saving face for another time when it’s warmer and the disorder of the present tense seems hardly worth mentioning I am talking about language I am stepping into puddles there is trouble falling from the sky but inside it is warmer and the tea comes safe with honey right lemon on the money like a soap opera adopting a different sense of sense too distant too resistant to interpretation too leading into fascination that the complications can not be told aloud can not be shuffled into a crowd and kept waiting I am dating the sidewalk several thousand bc and the tv is on into the bright while the white light takes its own sweet time and the sun pretends tomorrow while it waits and preens its rays



justwrite 10 october

I have washed the cost of living right out of forgiveness the thickness of a sense worth mentioning is too tense to defend to deliver such a shiver down mine spine is a line in the sand I can’t stand to cross with a dot and mark with a line just fine we’re feeling we’re stealing our circles out of the sky and the clouds too high for flying buy kites and keep trying to wonder how it’s going to blow like the weather too tired to fire up the wire and line the walk with sides the wide water the hired daughter and the borrowed son the undone rhyme skips syllables an unforgettable regret I have yet to tell you how well you ought to be doing I am brewing another key a pot of tea a coffee free and clear and here there’s more to say in another way and the stay is the leaving and the freezing is only clean clothes the show is going on the strong song sung in time has a mind of its own a tone sixteen tons undone and the library is closing but if you suppose the cars will make it far enough then you will know how to go to the upper deck and collect the fridge points the prize and the thigh-high apple trees breezing through the oranges turning yellow like a fellow traveler and thinking this is what I like to drink and blinking how I fill the sink with clean


justwrite 9 october

no chase to space this brace
a cased joint unbroken
a token key turned into a fare
unaware of spacing issues
of oncoming tissues
we have opened our mouths again
to a separate case
just to face the end
to lend an ear
a steer clear off the farm
away from harm
and straight through the clear blue elsewhere
up in the clear air
the fear to prepare incorrectly
the directly right bite
from the front of the apple
nothing the matter but lost in the sauce
we are tossed like a saladfresh ballad
eager to please
each wave through the trees