justwrite 18 march

I am sleepier than a leapyear there are clear forecasts for cloudy weather and the fever won’t break if the sun won’t rise there are cries from the catalog to be bought on top of a registry the pageantry pulling out all the stops and topping the pops the box office hit to bits the snit all paraded out the smithereens squeamish but still gleaming in the spotlight the night bright enough to serenade the hits the bits we thought were good enough are scrambled into the eggs our last legs were enough to feed us a whole onion each and we teach what we can reach and we eat all the rest the stress of a test you cannot pass the mass you cannot outweigh fast enough the rough edges and the drafts crafted with your raft in mind your makeship timbers making a ship-shape ship in tip-top shape taped together with scotch and also masking tasks built upon each other bundled into the wilderness and tucked in early there are lectures in the morning there is toast without a toaster which is to say bread because if you think instead of sense you ought to fire up your oven then you’ve got a new hot thought comin’ around the bend and it’s about to get told to you straight if you can’t wait for the answer then at least listen to the question what’s the dimension before the fifth unrehearsed in the worst way the ceremony going off along with the alarm and the music is playing swaying with the guests the honor the attitudes the rude dudes and their entourages and who would be your best man and who would tie on the cans in this lesson who would head off to the hills and drink his or her or their fill of all the right pronouns and never make it back from the end of the town without james james Morrison Morrison