Saturday, November 21, 2009

post 21 november

justwrite 20 november

oh hi let’s fly over that skyline let’s fry that landmine in a distant atmosphere no fear of the fallout no calling out for the leftovers the clover’s too lucky and the ducks are too plucky to carry on at that rate on the next plate they are escaping from peking there’s a diner no finer than fried rings of onion coming on hard down the next boulevard the theme music you’re used to suddenly changes and the faster frames are flying the tutorials are full and tired the wired phones are left in pockets the locks are clocked at a thousand miles an hour when kilometers overpower and the conversion we’re urging is easily ignored and the door turns out to be unhinged but we begin again we scan our hands and check our rings for size we surprise our circles into rounds and abounding in and out of results we are catapulting through the tumult the tomatoes stay full and red instead of ripening backward an absurd proposal if ever I’ve heard one although in fun my sister said or maybe she believed instead that the older we get the younger we are and that she is the oldest of us all by far or four and a half years which isn’t that near but surely not far and the steel guitar I used for a car has been sold since the war came and the warranty renamed the clunkers off of the streets into discreet garages and abstract farms safe from harm and interested in the rearview

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