justwrite 25 february

wait for the chorus we are waiting for more we miss our kings and spring our rings around the rosie there are trousers and they swish they wish they were worn by gym teachers echoing off the bleachers with whistles and tweezers teasing the soul out of a sullen white-soled sneakerboxer wearing all the right colors the socks that lock in line with the rules defined by the makers the takers shaking up the trunks and pulling out the cars far enough ahead of the red line you can’t stand behind if you’re going to get ahead there are rear-view mirrors and there are front windows I am sticking out my arm and my belly and letting them wash away today I need just my feet today I need an ear and once I hear that kind of music there’s truth in it we spin our webs we compare our pears and stare out where the pair piece ought to be in this puzzle I am wiggling my fingers which might mean typing I want you to know how I feel how are you and the truth is a double-album I am leaking out of my boots I am disappearing into the dirt we are considering our options I am making plans but they lead straight up and I haven’t got a ladder I have got a british-trotting tongue we have got unstrung we are wondering which one is better whether the honour of the weather is worth the curse of mislaid u’s and there is no news that I can tell there is no song that I can’t smell from a distance and again it’s proven that I can’t listen to music and write at the same time sorry about that