justwrite 3 march

today the heart is a lonely honeymaker the drone with the miles to go before smiling to sleep and the steep incline looks just fine from the other side of the tracks the river shivering into shorts and looking at pictures of the gone world cannot go back cannot keep track of those letters the ladders all let down the towns evolving and solving their own equations we are saving our stamps for the damp when the humidity will free all needs and push forward into the glorious mailroom the stale gloom of stickiness tickling pink each ivory tower we are listening for the piano we are hearing the guitar in the stairwell and that’s just as it should be the ringtones all phone home to the ears of others and their mothers ought to know the candles ought to glow brighter in the nightlier news the anchors can’t choose which cavities to chew without those doubts I thought I shouted out earlier but maybe it wasn’t aloud maybe we were not allowed to tell stories like that we weren’t allowed to make or keep track of the racks of collapsible bedposts I am tired before most of the rest starts to happen but if I can get through the next day and the text may find me but I’ll remind me that there’s plenty of time for no more answers we’ll take our chancers