post 7 november

justwrite 7 november

today’s the number game the same fame spread across like nutella when a fella has to say his part and the departing lines are too long to fine much less to find they are exchanging other peoples’ ideas and we are making our own this is a zone I am falling into I am calling back with room to spare but there’s a thirty minute limit and with me and you in it there’s no time for listening to the space there’s a race to chase the ending but we’re pretending it doesn’t matter there’s a shattering outside my glass but it passes and the classes are all teaching themselves at home with a roaming fee charged in the enlarged sense of a lack of progress we are messing up the eggs no one knows how to buy in a plastic bag dragging cracks on the floor we are performing our own dramas and our mamas want to know when the snow will reach our knees when the breeze will be too unbelievable to allow for leaving to cost forty griven because everything must go at these supersale prices and the nicest thing is the replacement of pop with the stopper of classic rock I am talking about listening and you are doing so and the flow goes on the beat is strong with this force of course we are the good guys of course we will never be as cynical as them we will never become ourselves in other view there are three rooms and no waiting and I am dating this entry to remember part of forever and to know it doesn’t last that way know the celery will make it through and nuts to all the crunching


justwrite 6 november

you might imagine I am capable of cooking up more than imaginary scenarios the scari-os in your bowl in the morning churning up the milk the freshcaught bilked from the ocean there are motions here without fear the steering clear leads to veering nearer we are wearier than our feet but our hearts go on beat by beat and the neat thing is the straight line the fine twine binds it all together the feathers and the bygones the singalongs and the campfires and this is an offer that never expires I am asking you I am staying true and I am listening with glistening eyes there is no surprise I will not hold in my pocket I will lock each piece with a golden key the ticket licked into place pasted like a space full of stars they are old and they are far and they are cold and what’s more is the story has more than fourteen the quarantine is unsettled by nettles in the side of politics the quick and the spread of the cards the hardened water which makes it ice the paradise of the right answer and encouragement sent swiftly I am posting no pictures with these wishes I am filling my water bottle again and the trend is toward ringing phones the zones are out of whack off track from the train station leaving a destination the imagination on a windy street meeting in a red bridge too big to budge too fudged for such a budget can’t be moved can be improved with a closer view or a truth more often spoken no tokens for this ride no way to hide the smile that styles into place when and how and thanks

justwrite 5 november

set up the steps we have left our feet on the ground floor and we are going up we cup our hands full of multivitamin juice and we boost our immunities with impunity we do not care how much it costs we do not fear the weary road for it will never find us we imagine it far behind us and we go and we go and we show no signs of slowing as the snowing takes over we have fields of clover in our brains and the stains of grass on our knees but our sleeves are tied behind and there’s no one to mind the chickens while the cats are out to play on the dock of the bay paying to play with the clock and to stay on a rock not quite Gibraltar but this one won’t falter there is questioning but there are lessons and the value-added dimensions are the ones we cannot buy these are the ones we need to try on for size and surmise whether we will survive in the same shape or if it’s escape instead while headed in the opposite way the stay is long but the road is longer and the feelings stronger than sense or regret and not yet but soon and when some other moon appears the years will melt away and anyway there are people not so lucky there are songs with no audiences and this is not the case I am riding the bus I am causing no fuss with my face wide open I am not covering up I am certainly drinking tea and water and your matters are mine and I own nothing worth forgiving but the living isn’t easy although the food is here to stay whatever that may lead you to believe