justwrite 22 march

running along the slow road the horizon seems surprisingly far away the mud today was enough to encourage my feet to stay in bed the home instead of home the warm way the blankets keep toes safe from the damp morning there was no new rain there was a plain plain with no spain janes mary or otherwise to disguise the progress that should have been made we dig spades with our own piles of dirt we hurt our own estimations with our fascinations we are saving our nations from uniting instead of untying we are pledging our undying allegiance to one sort of thing or another depending on the weather driving along Taneytown road there are no holds barred and the sheep kneel down they look to be practicing yoga or triangles but clearly upon reflection they are seeking the sweetest shoots the tenderest roots of all sunlight green at its feet and neatly disguised as grass their faces placed nearly to the earth the razzledazzle notwithstanding but withoutsitting off to the side hiding its shiny face in shame the lamest idea the angles of pretense we cannot mention our own disguises we hide our willowtrees and beat our knees back cracking eggs in competition listening to the horseradish recipes that reddish work done at night in the light of the crucible the proctors all so goody and the two shoes out to lose each other in the surprise of jealousy and confusion the illusions of truth and the reality of fear in that sphere and every one since and before and what’s more there aren’t always Arthur millers to script our lips into spitting well-crafted lines and our monologues don’t rhyme but go on incessantly either internally or otherwise and we surprise ourselves with what we’ve memorized aye and god’s icy wind will blow and so he says to the moon and so the camera comes up close we say zoom we swoon with dramatic ecstasy and wait for the curtain