justwrite 20 march

all the starch fell out of those sheets to the wind the scene the screen saved itself and the health of a thousand cookies freeze-framed in the refrigerated section the store all groceried and the hokey all pokied in the eyball split-screen special effect budget busting untrustworthy superstore and when you see this you free your mind from being confined to the theory that I am a writer your days are much brighter than my nights are dark and I am parking my glass ceiling bottom boat in order not to throw stones where the wild things are I had a car and I sold it I had a story and I told it and then it told me what for and how long and how far and where we go we follow the swallows and tell our own stories in glorious relief the maps with collapsed elevations the stations of the crosscontinental zones the Appalachian stations tuning in and the hymns directing our thoughts upward and outward forward bound and unhappily browned like a sunworked underbelly my thoughts are smelling and my head doesn’t work with all the lights on