justwrite 30 january

when I was taking out the past the trash came back inside fried up the pan and scandalized the candles they were burning in the middle and fending off the ends and the depending on has got to stop those crops won’t grow without an ounce or two of blue jean fever there are levers to pull and buttons to press and my best guess is that the language I’m lacking is attacking elsewhere from all those other angles dangling verbs and omnipresent nouns drowning their syntax in boston harbor drinking all the tea they see and filling up the tabernacles with choirs wiring money to the orphanages and keeping tigers in their cages the cubs and the shrubs cut down with herring no bearing to keep in mind no findhorn garden to research the growing seasons without reason I am committing a backward treason by which I mean I am too loyal to disown I am disordered but sorted carefully into piles it took a while to make and if you’ll take a look in this book this reading rainbow will take you anywhere but you don’t have to take my word for it or store it up like a couple of acres of butter and two pounds of flour minus a cup of salt the tumultuous recipes we are pleased to concoct are trying to adopt a wait-and-see care-free attitude but we’re used to predictions coming true we’re used to going to the circus and not the zoo and it’s true what they said and it’s wrong that we’re led to believe that trees grow on moneyleaves planted in scantily watered hands the pockets not deep enough to allow for roots the truths too dirty to support growth there is a chart I’d like to show you but I know you will come to a conclusion without wallowing long enough in illusions to appreciate the state of these remarkable points circled into which we find wagons our dragons are our own best friends our pretend sounds in the night are the least delightful and we cannot escape their escape from capture by normalcy by the easy breathing of daytime the morning arriving after all anyway despite its earlier impossibility and that tendency toward surprise allows the sun to rise again and again and I for one am not about to stop it