justwrite 7 february

in store there is merchandise twice the price of yesterday’s fees but the trees are eager to please and fork over the leaves now freezing without reasons the seasons are their own tickets home we roam we are gnomes looking at collapsed maps trapped on one-way streets the complexities too real how to feel and who to thank if the taxes come out of the bank or head back into with cleared-through exercise books cooked up and turned over or transformed into storms of enormous size dotting the cart before the I the horse before the t crossed at the corner the dormer windows blowing open overnight letting in the light the stars traipsing through the kitchen and tasting leftover cake no waking up the sleepers deeper in their layers the trying-out savory smoked and fried hind-sight the white pages turning yellow and the chance of calling falling off the hook look at what has happened here look at all these proposals going nowhere with no care for the end users the bruisers and the bruised the contusions overused and the hair un-dried refried like mean beans who were expecting soup who used up their superstore namebrand commands unhanding labels and their unstable counterparts our hearts are full of idioms not the wittiest but to begin again is to be stranded on an unstrung island spying on the shore with more than off-handed interest the faintest taint of French fries surprising its unexplainable sense of smell and the ketchup as well that carries off the whole dish with relish and also with appreciation