justwrite 29 january

stop allowing so much permission stop believing in superstition in the sense of the case where the space is a waste of time where the line cannot be drawn of its own accord where the boring orders are never filled where the pills aren’t taken but the vitamins mistaken for small dry fruits are downed in cahoots with a traveling salesman tonic nothing bubonic just a few twists of wrists and a ribbon on top I will never stop the wandering I cannot ponder a deep enough river to swim to the top there are lots of parkings and barks of dogs but the bumps on logs cannot be stopped those crops will not grow in the unfashionable soil please toil elsewhere we cannot help but carry our own weight he’s not my brother he’s some other sandwich-eater we are too discreet to make scenes but we will whisper action! and fade into the wings we cannot fly but when we try to explain why our lips flutter upward and we wonder what we’ve heard as beautifully told as imagination the fascination with glitter and forgetting we are betting our own fingers on that skin we are hoping to come in seventh place none the wiser the surprises we fizzled out like a doubt on the fourth of july too late to try to reschedule the menu and the corn kept cobbing all the space between my eyes there were thoughts we bought tickets to on schedule but when the plane left only one of us ate the peanuts when I mean this I want to say phases of phrasal verbs but I can not have heard of a more irrelevant set of schedules I am hoping for a comb or a frontporch gnome but I already have a brush and there’s no rush because there’s no porch and there’s not enough water for the plant if it comes down to that