post 31 october

justwrite 31 october

tired of being fired by health we establish ourselves a board we have ignored the options but the co-option the adoption of states divided like fates spinning some sort of yarn and no harm for the weary the wicked with bleary eyes surprise themselves in the mirror growing nearer toward unintentional missile launches leaning forward on their haunches into the night we are biting like fish like worms hooking themselves their lesser selves and smarter odds evening it up and stuffing their bears and werewolves full into the fur with sandwiches and picnic surprises the size of these mushrooms leaves barely enough room for a sore throat but the lemonade has got itself made in a pleasant shade too sleepy too weepy and indulgent for chocolate and you know this means the queens are kinging themselves all around the board the red and black explored in exhaustive searching lurching toward bed again and the eyes close exposing the negatives flashing an xray from the past a future raising itself up and the symptoms missing the toofine point disjointed and anointed with holy stomachs too full to be foolish the discos are missing their customers and the worst of it all is the search that falls from words fails from grace to explain the places into first and second and the distant sound of third having heard no confirmation and the destination still unknown I will roll over again scanning the dial and trailing the judges without budging

justwrite 30 october

while I sit down to write the night into order the sorting of last trash takes itself out and the doubts I have accumulated during the day must decide if they stay or whether to go and how slowly to travel to deftly unravel the strands the commands of another lifetime with the lines leading to a border heading off the sorters the rafts the tracks around and around and the children tumbling down over the hedges as they jump stumped by confusion and proclaimed as illusions all across the landscape faking out the monsters and sending out for trout we are rainbows in our hurricane minds we feel fine and we act with traction slowing us down the ground around the edges is dry and the mud comes undone at the least touch so keep your fingers to yourself and make some health come true while you sleep deep into the afterthoughts having brought a picnic lunch and having packed all those melons into a crescent a moon blooming in the basket the tasks all mastered and the mustard all passed like a class full of mashers all banged up with no place to go and the show goes on as it stong-arms all harm out of the way and to stay is too hilarious for comparison so the songs we sing are messaging instantly and indiscreetly with neatly packed stages raging into order and sorting out the pumpkins from the patch catching all together in four arms and no waiting