Friday, April 30, 2010

justwrite 30 april

I am waiting for the words but instead absurd spaces take the places of letters fettered to my ears not what I hear but what I wear where we are staring into space and it is staring into us trust and distraction collecting in fooled pools we are the swimmers and we have collapsed with uncounted laps to go a lapse in judgment a fudge meant for some other taste the waste which is to have to have not to have bought the wrong kind of anything and to open it to face disappointment to wait for a package that never comes to bake a cake from leftover crumbs this is not the same there are chains being smoked being brokered the deals still healing over from the last time a longlost crime hiding in the earlier pages the sages have read over the wages all paid but the wind keeps blowing showing some sort of message trespassing against us the rust and the river the red valley to remember we are almost finished with this book we are ready for another look and the shelf helps itself to titles too numerous for dewey and infinite decimals in place there’s a system for this there’s a chase scene and I’ve seen it before but a different score in the background take my hand and let’s go the warm-up music the winners and their abs their absent abilities their willingness to add words where they are not needed let’s go there’s another one another fun I know you’re safe wherever you are and the rhythm keeps and the story steeps in hot air but never told the sold minutes bought for repetition there are twelve presses and then crossed legs for example I will tell you for example I will spell you out an explanation to your fascination without understanding I am commanding attention the front of the room the back of the hall calling instructions and demonstrations for a tired nation changing colors up and around and turn this but with these feet you will meet trouble roll again and add the score you won’t be earning more in this round but please to keep playing

Thursday, April 29, 2010

justwrite 29 april

the line on the line in the sand in the hand is worth two on the scoreboard and more accurately it’s four and the tour is over the clover blooms in surprising color the bagels are not but the tickets are bought and the show goes on I am strongly opposed to headaches I am not the best planner I have a manner that begs to requested in triplicate I have spent the last dimes of incorrect currency in a hurry seeing but not finding searching but not buying anything but feetmeetings with streetlong itineraries we are ferrying our way across the stream toward online overflow downcast eyebrows we are tired we are fired and hired in the same thought and what I’ve bought will have to last because I can pay no more for now

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

justwrite 28 april

I’ve had my fill of stillness in recent recollection but it’s an easy misdirection between self-correction and internal turmoil roiling over splintered boards floored by the sheer thought of nylon the frying pans scandalized by the toasted nightwise morning the sudden sense of change the rearranging letters scattered through tattered curtains uncertain teeth and the reach for a creaking seat cushion we are saving ourselves from the toohard from the cardboard pizzabox breakfast the collectivist mashing of so many potatoes out of focus but still clinging to their skins releasing their sins and recounting their votes not the remotest chance of satisfaction in this hall this crawling pace this heated debate disgracing tomatoes and losing focus a hocus pocus sort of tiddleywinks on the brink of implosion showing again and again on channels ten and twenty numbers wide hiding behind the screen the screaming meaning little beyond noise we imagine various ploys but destroy the plans before scandal blooms the blueprints filling a sleepless room tuned in for quiet but inspiring the opposite watching yet another variant and dismissing it without doubt simply sense and improbability let’s take a survey and pay off the takers the bakers the judges and their grudges a hiatus could make us grow could stop us slowly this is how it happens this is a play in the third quarter or maybe the second no recollection of digits but I’d say it’s time for the half it’s high time to craft an exit strategy or is this a higgelty piggelty piece of humble piety about to be served hot or cold or moldy with waiting for reality we please our own designs call our own lines and translate what-ifs from hieroglyphs to true-tone blackandwhite views the truth or the art of it who doesn’t want a part of it and how would you rather I’m gathering input before hunting for bigfoot

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

justwrite 27 april

when you have time may I print three pages these words age upon my tongue hung out to dry to fry in the hot wind of my mind finding a dry time ahead instead of the great wet outside we have tried our best to crest these waves we have saved all our string to bring together a rope also to save up hope and to cope with imagined situations this is a nation we are saving in our own heads and instead of lessons we are teaching suggestions and openness to hope again with the rope again but only because it rhymes this time we have crimes to consider to shiver in anticipation of the gloves come off and the discreet cough is swallowed by the black deep the restful sleep interrupted by the draft there was a raft I was building but I left it in a drawer that went missing and I’m kissing the strong on my finger to try to remember but once again forever is shorter than imagined a tragedy of its own design to seek and to find to speak and to spell and it’s just as well we haven’t made it to the bridge where the guitar and the graduation meet the sunrise with notquite surprise and wide sleepy eyes the chords hoarded in thrift stores coming true in shades unexpected but nonetheless collected patiently patently lined next to leather shoes and to choose is to find time to seek is to create when the space chases place and the echoes depart hardening hearts against ache and baking something different a sudden cloud and also the thunder hungered for when the storms have so long been silent the wet remnants of sadness or perhaps a plea for the plight of potted plants to dance in a drenched tent wherefore the hiding is deciding itself out of style and the miles to go before sleep are rearranged in strange patterns we are scattering our own ashes in unknown landscapes we are faking our escapes and looking for tickets made of sticky finger lingering longer than ideas we are not clear we do not fear there are apples and also radishes and the vanishing freight darkparked at the horizon surprises itself into sinking into unsung mountains

Monday, April 26, 2010

justwrite 26 april

there is a chill filling the inside of the window and an incidental widow lifts her eyelids to flash the sky with blue surprise the height of fashion crashing downward words spilling from lined lips eclipsed by the heavy weight of silence a finger pressed to keep the peace whole instead of splintering it into pieces the breezes blowing higher lighting frustrated fires in the cool dark night no one holds a candle to delight no one can see and within the outside there are slow strides being made across the glassy surface the puddle the pond the ocean emotions notwithstanding but always sitting or lying laying honestly the tricks all undone and the trucks carrying sun ferried deeper into an unsung season in between reasons and while once there were suggestions the lessons they tried to teach are out of reach at this junction no functions mathematical or otherwise inspire surprise in these wideawake eyes this requires belief and she admires how it leaks down and through draining new impressions and tender encouragement here is the feeling of an empty hand empty arms and the slowly evolving cause for notquite alarm but something in that direction to have and to hold or maybe just one when the sun goes down when the town filters by in its march twobytwo toward the dark ark of night preparing for safe saved smooth sailing toward morning a dawning of multiplication fascination and also light but the secret caramel night clings sweetly to imagined thoughts bought at the price of sleep deep and fulfilling but the taste on her tongue strung through the day allows for the play of fiction on fingers the triggers all in place and the chase not on but ongoing in every direction throwing seome sense to the wind the caution therein repaid an investment waylaid along cobblestone streets and architecture established with the idea of collage as inspiration we learn and we grow and what we say we know is rarely so useful as it ought to be but we please ourselves in such deliveries shivery with wonder at the brightness

Sunday, April 25, 2010

justwrite 25 april

when I was thinking about it I was writing and when I was not writing I was thinking about it I was wondering where all these words come from where they go and if that is a story I can also tell a story and if that is language rich and colorful I also have such language there is a style childish and plain there are words too absurd for recollection I am teaching a lesson to myself and that is health in the form of letters they are spelling out messages also to myself and sometimes to others our bothers are so small and the leaves are growing and are green and greener they every day change their shade and reflect the newness blueness of the sky the clouds are without color and without shape and the escape is impossible from reality into a couch with distant language shaped into text there are no ideas about what comes next but ours is to record ours is to afford the chance for such dances in future time in two-four and also waltzes halting laid out there are pigeons swimming through the air toward my window and they swoop up at the last minute scooping up my view and wakening my wondering how and why and what could I say to tell what can I say as well as anyone else what messages come from these rainy absences what colors are competing waiting in line to take up the sky when it’s a colorbynumber fantasy what color is blue and how are you going to know what I mean when I say what I see we are all hilarious in our own imaginings we are tragedies not worth recounting to other souls whole days whole plays acted out in careful scenes when we mean what we meant to think about saying playing all the games and bouncing all the right cards the balls falling through the hoop into the goal we are full up and wanting more I am storing canopies in my mind I am finding the words again let me tell you what I see when I look out when I look in when I tie the trees to my mind and set sail

Saturday, April 24, 2010

justwrite 24 april

sometimes hearing my thoughts aloud shrouds my belief in fantasy there is truth spoken and the token gestures are pressed upon and pushed away and when I replay my answers the chances of dancing closer to the flame remain I burn my tongue on these unstrung rejoinders the questions are still in my head the rest of the book is still unread but I want to know the right responses the chooseyourown parts of the adventure seem so expensive as independent ventures and when I see the future it is unsutured to the present it is a hesitant rabbit danging the occasional nabbit but happily trapping carrots in healthy teeth a catch without release program and if I am such a writer where are my works and if I am such a teacher what lessons are being learned I have earned self-reproach and am coaching myself toward security the tea is too hot to drink the loyalty flashes on the brink jealousy in the sink swirling down down and all around the town the mulberry bush it’s a weasel being chased in the passive voice and it’s me doing the chasing perhaps before I collapse in inefficiency planting potatoes with the know-how I’ve just gained and when I walk home alone when I pick up my quiet phone and shake my head over Saturday night boiling water there are hotter ways to play there are other brinks on the drink of when I started this idea there were other thoughts forthcoming but the numbing is a quickfix I am ticklish in the brain sprained by ideas too planted to enchant myself I have health and some control but the goal is somewhat unclear and there are fears greater than late caffeine but whaddasthatmean

Friday, April 23, 2010

justwrite 23 april

too intense to mention there is a reason this season is colored so brightly the nightly wind brings down branches and sideglance chances we all have questions but the lessons we learn tell us we only churn so much better and chance does the dance to the end the lending tree the library and all the pretty flowers the showers and the clouds pinned to the sky in artful arrangement estranged from the ground but meeting occasionally horizontally for some tasteful interchange we are strange and wise we disguise our thoughts we have bought our passports and now we tell only the truth we are not used to such a world we have many streets to explore and the more often we turn corners the more items are added to the list it’s bliss not to miss out on not to doubt on about wrongs and rights we are only right all that is left is what’s next and what’s past can’t last forever we have measured out our tumbledown hairstyles and the tuba players cannot savor another awkward sunset without our approval the brassy removal of extension cords lording it over the clovers and eating up all the luck the lame duck climbing into the mitten smitten with apprehension but paying enough attention to duck a the low door and what’s more to duck constantly for you see that’s what you do when you we are through with this line no more thoughts to twine in line with that sort of fowl play and I cannot say I didn’t mean that it’s a square fair deal and the way we feel now we will feel forever we have questions and we are answering for ourselves

Thursday, April 22, 2010

justwrite 22 april

when i was listening to the rain i found myself slipping into a song but i slid right back out there were doubts about the melody and i can plainly see a reflection in the mirror clearer than my own nose it's exposed right there on my face but to erase all the angles is to tangle with introspection and at this moment this intersection with life and time i'm a little tied up i have fried all the right potatoes and saved all the proper files in denial with style in and of style there's a while to go before i sleep but deeper than the ocean is my devotion to language the strange gauge of thoughts the ideas we bought and sold with our own tongues among others i am myself and alone i am louder than light i am a bright idea i once had and i am scattering the evidence a preponderance of clues the clout no doubt stronger than clouds and shrouded in sunlight i am confused by the seasons i am changing all the reasons and projecting what needs to be protected i would like to read a book i've already written and find myself smitten with each line i would like to wrap another sweater around those glowing with coolchill i will fill their bellies with all i can offer there are coffers full of colors and the numbers become irrelevant the spell we sent out into the air comes true claims its own reality and the fees we pay are only for air the breathing seizing our beings as necessary and clear and the fear is a tax we throw out with the tea into the sea which is actually a harbor but which harbors no ill will for such a sweettaste spill just don't let it happen again

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

justwrite 21 april

we are full up on eating eden there are so many colors of green and the scene changes itself with the help of elves of a sunshine sort they are purported to exist but the skeptics and their misdirected trans-lexical arrangements allow for a strange mix of sticklers the tickleberry snozzlefuzz running out of sense and so we turn to reality the color of nails painted two days ago fading in contrast with the re-touched thumbnail the left one more fun to contrast in collapsing sentences the sense of eating the same dinner for three days but anyway liking it and striking it hot like an iron fighting like a knight fantastic an elastic carnival stretching and catching each cartwheel in a steel trap the still collapsing artifacts turning into antiques remember the frequency with which you prepared for those careless lessons those seventh-heaven repeats over and under around again through you and your lieutenants turn out to be menaces to this wider society but provided we can answer questions we will give enthusiastic lessons for the less is more entourage easy-going idioms humming along happily and scrapping all the tablerunners I am humming again I am repeating the same words I have heard of sense but I cannot make it I have given a grade but no one will take it and the satisfaction in attracting attention lessens with the added dimension of condescension when it’s simply appreciation for a difference when it’s an angle of deliverance from normalcy we are pleased to help we meaning me and I am this case I am nominative declarative we are comparing ourselves with our surroundings compounding grammar skills and article drills when to use and when confusion reigns supreme and when ice cream is a better idea when the wind will stop raining and the clouds will stop blowing

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

justwrite 20 april

now I’m in the business of expanding and contracting retracting countable nouns and clowning around with the frowns unmeasurable the treasures I have buried deep like teeth wondering what will grow and I show my ignorance in this question it’s a lesson I wasn’t taught but now l learn that if baby teeth aren’t buried no matter whether or not there’s a fairy and in this case it’s a mouse and not a toothmouse but just a mouse with an interest in mouths well anyway if this doesn’t happen then the big teeth won’t grow and this shows what we know with our western-style fairies wearing cowboy boots and spurs to grow you right up and give you some money in exchange you’re older now but it’s not so bad look here’s a quarter! there are rewards built in to keep us swimming but the sinking links quite easily through alliteration and our fascination with language dangles us out the door and what’s more we wonder what’s the rumpus and among us are phrases we’re trying to phase out such as capitalized surprise and the apparent laughter associated with texts of teenaged girls where teenage girls is also an appropriate usage and as for the grammar we stammer out faithfully we can’t fully see where we’re going what we’re showing is more than enough to bluff this listener this viewer see-througher and I have not yet planted the uncoiled spiders the helicopter airplane parachute long green legs out of the forest and into the glorious upside-down plastic fantastic art piece soon to be released to an admiring public and won’t we all say it’s earth day won’t we all play our parts and rehearse the next scene while waiting what’s to be done and who’s to be seen and in between where the time goes and the colors glaze or fade or blaze

Monday, April 19, 2010

justwrite 19 april

let’s talk about facts there are taxes collected and those are the ones we earned we paid our churning butter beans out of scenes and into the house we painted white we delight in our own fantasies of what it means to be successful and this has to do with content and context and who we are and what we think and who we represent and what they think and where we’re from and what that means and where we’re talking and when we’re saying what time it is and what the moment in history means the context you know and who’s listening and why and what they think themselves and what they think as representatives of others and where they’re from and having undone all of these strands we command meaning to come forth it is a performance art and it has much to do with itself it feeds its own health and here I can tell you that anything a politician says is political discourse and hence the language means linguistics the bits twisted in and out even when buying milk or something of that ilk when asking for change can we rearrange ourselves to listen on more levels we are shoveling it all into a great big pile but for me the golden mile comes when we’ve unstrung the truth that language for a political aim fits into the same game and we know you know I’ll show you what that can mean in a realistic sense the tense of changing policy and bringing it to life to send a letter to call a senator to give a speech to teach and to find we are blinded by delight with the sounds our own mouths make and our pens bake such tasty cakes when added into paper ovens with a little bit of heat and never will you eat something so alarmingly persuasive the linguistics so ridiculous and the persuasion so amazing you have got to got to have it or do it or believe it straight through it

Sunday, April 18, 2010

justwrite 18 april

I’m not sure how the lines add up but the subtraction is evident if I were the president I’d minus more than that shore I would add up all the oceans I would take myself out of contention I would pick my own bones we disown ourselves with our own recollections our collection of skin drifting in and out of proportion we are distorting our mirrors but the pictures are clearer though no more kind the rewind is impossible the clauses too independent to fend off defendants I am collecting my wits about me about you about truth and justice and superheroes we are wearing our welcome on our sleeves we are leaving behind the trees and we are freezing the breeze around us the clowns have found us and the answers are all coming too slowly there’s a holey moley piece of swiss and the bliss in the hand is commanding its own two birds the stones thrown are farther afield than the yield of a thousand angry chickens the pickin’s aren’t good but the lickin’s not so bad there are scattered fragments and hang-ten alarm clocks surfing through the lurch and landing in a church you visited with your eyes closed and your ears open we are hoping for the chance to escape ourselves but the elves bring no such tickets the gifts we find are hidden in our socks and we have to keep our feet from meeting them in the dark parking there before we walk before we talk ourselves out of sleep in the dusky present the hesitant removal the truth we forsake the hands we shake the cake baked with leftover opinions we are swimming in these skins again we cannot do the right math wake at the best time in order to accomplish we wish for fish and when they come true we cannot eat them the bait we’ve laid out for rainbow trout catches only the sky

Saturday, April 17, 2010

post 17 april

justwrite 17 april

is waiting in an unlocked head bedded by fireworks of the electrically impulsive kind there are explosions but they are not in the sky there are high expectations and also lists but adrift in that sea is a shaky stake plunged into the earth from this we will make our maypole we will pitch our tent we are renting apartments in the upper reaches of intellect but collecting the cash to save them from trash is worth three blood blisters and a cold to hold together I am turning off the lights and fighting back the bright until a different morning I will take my pick and the pressure will vanish the settling will take reckoning beyond ache and the cake will be mine to be taken

justwrite 16 april

I’ve got a lot of hot potatoes waiting to be pronounced more like tomatoes and widely spread across plates mashed for quick cash opportunities twenty-two of which we see caught up and bought off scot-free but we the undertakers of such plans offer scandal in the hand and no birds in the bush it’s a push to imagine tragedy of a more direct sort I’ve purported to have better handwriting in the past and at last I’m forced to consider whether that fish is getting bigger in twenty-twenty hindsight offering a brighter light by which to see and be seen careening through darkened hallways in more ways than one there was sun but now none there was warm air but that’s fairly vanished unfairly of course and the uncharted horse goes before and beyond carts no one has pulled before what’s more is less to the point but often adjoined anyway and it helps to say the corner office is not impossible beyond the hype of stereotype active citizens begin again scandalized and dendrites fried by purple suggestions we are teaching our own lessons but missing the test we have bet on the castle but the clouds came in first we have rehearsed grammar only to stammer out happenstance syntax at the first given chance now I am become grating instead of great but it’s a fate undeniably late in the game and it doesn’t stick all the same it’s inconvenient to say the least and once I’ve given you a piece of my mind and you’re left holding part of my foot instead I’ll turn red and apologize sideways then try instead to lend a blending hand face place in the space blankly blinking beyond the cursor

Thursday, April 15, 2010

justwrite 15 april

here I am pausing to acknowledge the closet the closest thing to sliced spreads of clothes pressed into unknowing noses and turning them up there is nothing to wear there is no comparison and even in the mirror the clearer sense is a suggestion to run to hide to fry more eggs and widen our mouths the south risen again it’s a prison to pretend inaction we believe we pay fees and spend our own needs it is treason to disbelieve it is a reason to try to achieve on the behalf of others who cannot tell themselves from others we are soliciting tickets we are rickety but we have enough oranges and also other vitamins the sun tries to shine and it’s doing just fine but those little boys with plastic gun toys stripping the sudden blooms from the tender branches have been given more than enough chances I could do nothing what could I say I stopped and I stared and there were tears in my eyes the surprise at such incorrect action held me in traction and I wish this was a metaphor but it probably wouldn’t be much better for anything if this was a representation what is the fascination with destruction we are our own trash collectors but we have big backyards we carry them on our backs and our tracks are clear we are steering forward into the dark and I’m hoping

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

justwrite 14 april

I have other ideas in mind I planted a typewriter and out grew a wheelbarrow which is not to say it wasn’t red but the white chickens were raining instead of water and it was somewhat inaccurate as a scene and if I hadn’t seen the script in advance I wouldn’t have had the chance to correct it or at least for it to occur to me to correct it which is to say I left those two roads diverged as they were and that has made at least part of the difference we should all go to bed early and wear purple and red hats or perhaps cats and foxes in hatboxes as well but only while on the bus because they’d fuss if left inside for too long and who’s strong enough to disagree we are free and easy but we charge as well we are swell and yelling softly because those sticks are a little too big for carry-on I am strong-arming my way through to the other side of the window I would rather be looking in because looking out is to have doubts but to look in is to know where you’d like to be and to see this all set up in easy relief is simple grief to tell here’s a topographical map of what doing well looks like and it’s a quick right and two lefts collecting in the bottle of the teacup which turns out to be a mug which is easier to hug close and to hold in the most soothing of ways praying and pretending for neverending honeylemon steam to stream down my throat all I wrote and all I’ve been so far packed into a car driving in the other direction but in this distance I can see trees growing and boats rowing in a non-passive voice they had the choice but the rowers appeared steering clear of awkward syntax and action without charge being taken of it we bluffed those listeners we are missing our quiz shows and we know no ill winds we blow good bangs out of our faces and trace chase routes around the block this is where we compare our notes and debate the suitability of purple thumbnails and argyle snails living in rainbow whistles these are the thistles and also the shamrock stocking up for the coming sunshine season

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

justwrite 13 april

there’s good news and it’s nothing to snooze about we are cruising for trout looking us right in the rainbow it’s a green beret parade but it’s a little red corvette that’s bet its wheels on the next steal in the market the bulls and the bears the Chicago and Chicago we are rooting for the same change of scenery the meaner we get the harder we set our teeth to grind and if you don’t mind I’d rather just guess at what’s left I’d rather just test my hypothesis on the normally ground round it’s the strongest density the meanest tensity of the rope I hope you think that’s a word because I’m moving on anyway the noodles and the butter the sunshine and the utterly defenseless way my throat croaks out the drought is yet to leave the sun and the rain all the plain recollections the record collections the split-apart words serving up splinters and the glint in your eye makes the sleep in me sigh and ache for attention we are giving what we can we are handling the strands and braiding them back together whatever forever the never we wish the always we know the toes and the lines and the feeling too fine for metallic voice traffic I am tired of the muscles I am wondering where the hustle will ever fit back in approved as it is as used as it is to earlyup mornings and downforthecount nights we are bright in our attention and the dates and the mentions I am listening my shoulders are folded into disappointment or perhaps pleasure there are measures I cannot take and split into notes the beats go on and the beets are sugared baby the way we wish we want we were we are we three kings of orient are never going to make it to the end of a sentence given as a reward or perhaps as a punishment for the fun you sent in a package the wracked brain the plain spinach twisted into wrists and vanished like soup in the night

Monday, April 12, 2010

justwrite 12 april

outside again it’s the trend of a whistling trickle the sound licking the car alarm staging an unharmed caravan of disparities we are charity cases ringing our own bells smelling our own selves stressed and tested we have bested the odds we have eaten onions and garlic we are not afraid of the dark we have been drinking lemons what saves us is our own fear and it’s a healthy way to steer but it’s a dark clearing in the waiting for rain we are plainly objecting to the dryness correcting it with cans and canopies we are trampolines waiting for gravity to reconsider I am bigger than this chair I am comparing my iron with the socket and they will never lock it up close together they are feathers of different birds and you might have heard that one differently but it’s pleasantly clear to me that we breeze through truth like we have no use for it it’s a toothpaste parade it’s a fryingpan alarmclock where alarmclock is my favorite compound word to throw into that kind of a stirfry we have cattleprods and heatingpads we have wallpaint and tainted judgements we have husbands and wives and ittybitty children whose lives are turned left and uprooted the right in cahoots in chaos where the boss wants to know when the show will start after these curtains have parted where has all the sense gone and when will this clown stop fooling around and write something reasonable something more seasonable it’s beautiful and green and the birchybark scenes are pressed crisp dry against the wet on wet watercolor sky full of rain and waiting for the pigment

Sunday, April 11, 2010

justwrite 11 april

we are full up on doubt the trout can only swim one way and the state has no union suit in cahoots with those singerline twingerfine wordmaker mistake takers we are faking our way through writing we are fighting the twitching nerves serving their point of decongesting the joints but all those feelings the hair reeling at the top of the head instead of the unsatisfied collar I am solving each dollar as its own reward I have forded each stream and the pickup trucks that seemed not to be missing have returned in living color this one gray by which I mean silver and the sliver of light the brighter shade of pale the stale face and the tired armchair waiting for each other at the end of the idiomatic day there is iodine to pay but the play has already been cast the outlasted energizer has already made it through a battery of tests the rest have been waiting to take the cake has already been forsaken and there’s no faking my way to taste buds the startling garlic was more than enough but now it’s tough to imagine that any other hand will ring a doorbell it’s a long drawnout pose but we’re exposing our own weaknesses and that’s a way to go that’s a throwdown a knockup drageroo and there’s no one who says that just an idea there’s no one who wants to be more clear I have fears and feelings and only one is healing I have cars and potatoes but only the edible ones are real we are stealing bases and putting them back before anyone notices and I suppose I cannot settle further before bed instead I will lighten my load with exposed toes and wait for the sun to decide tomorrow will be the day tomorrow I will have dry hair and patience tomorrow I will do my best to balance tomorrow I am not flexible and I will be an honest actress and we will all know the difference but no one will laugh I am a giraffe in an elephant suit and the difference is hard to tell I am spelling bee but it’s the letter and not the insect which takes more letters and much more sound to affect correctly

Saturday, April 10, 2010

justwrite 10 april

while we waited we stated our claims but never our names we were in hurries we had baking waiting to come out of the oven we had sisters who were getting married in ten minutes we had children who were at home alone we all needed to make something for dinner we all had shirts to iron and floors to sweep we had families to keep from falling apart but no one listened everyone glistened with his own story her own worry these are my troubles and they are many I have not a penny I have a cold I have not a husband I have a sore foot I have no food at home I have a fever I have something to say I have to hear it even if no one else does we are looking around and deciding who’s hiding the most and who will take their tea with toast I am the most interested I am writing everything down this is not a true story this is a true story this happened today it never happened this happens every day I am listening to what everyone says I am hearing it all I am understanding nothing this is the life I have chosen this is the explosion in my chest when the right pieces come together this is finding soft tissues on the second trip and eclipsing the raw nose with chosen citrus salvation I am listening to the courtyard and watching the sunflower seeds slip from pockets to finger to mouths and split to the ground spit out loud and the birds too proud for leftovers are waiting to be invited for the first round I am crowning myself but without a crown I am watching for the green to come from the brown the buds and the yellow the fellow travelers waiting for the chill to retreat the neat rows exposed in their beds what appeared to have been brush instead brushed away like winter the season the satisfaction proactively finding itself and letting the waiters wait the linemakers take their own cake and feed it to the dogs

Friday, April 9, 2010

justwrite 9 april

what they say is the way we walk is a talk of a lifetime the millionaire’s fine finding all those out-of-doubt troutstreams filling up with low deep bass ponds the scandal and the trundle beds! instead of breakfast we were eating tomatoes and instead of four o’clock we had tomorrow there are sorrows not worth repeating there are leftovers worth reheating I have seeded the fields and the fish will grow I have scattered the ashes and the wind will blow I have baked a pot of tea and eaten the sky on bread instead of carrots I dreamed of avalanches and the chances of them coming true are two in a million and I’m one and the fun is that you are two and we knew and we know and we swim and we sew but mostly we grow in the sand in the sun and the childhood songs come along to play the way I meant to go to yoga the way the inozemna mova got transliterated from other language a foreign one so to speak is what I seek and to be found is pleasant enough it’s a tough nose to blow it’s a hard row to line up speaking of columns and solving the retreat by sounding a horn it’s a norm to want to create but at this late date we’ll have to count the eggs we’ll have to break legs of our own design I am finding myself tired and I am losing myself awake I am taking making strides tanning my own hide on the other side of satisfaction I have signed a contract meant to counteract such stratagems and the citrus contends its own vitamins will be enough and it’s a bluff I’d rather not call but still and all if the phone rings I will bring it to my ear and I will hear and say can you see and the dawn will have some early light but we’ll call it patriotism and not propaganda we can handle our own tongues and those strung along among us will have to wait for the later bus

Thursday, April 8, 2010

justwrite 8 april

it’s a great full-up truck of strawberries paring its way into your heart waiting to be smashed apart and compoted and re-routed into jam there are scandals but here are none we have fun to be had we are glad we are decidedly pleased there are trees unreasonably close to a boasting distance the least resistance of any path takes a bath on those issues sneezes without any tissues and the issues are missing the misters are wishing for a return to normalcy to politics as unusual as apolitically transmittable I am waiting for a deep breath and what’s left is an every-other-day sway of the wind I learned this can happen and your bellowed one may want to be marred and there are scary scars where confused vocabulary has touched me so much we may throw ourselves outside the trash and cash in on royalties the disloyalty is what would hurt if it were true but because it’s you I’m not worried sometimes everything else gets a little hurried but here all is well there are tell-tale signs and trickle-down economics there are hydroponics but we haven’t got enough air for that one enough fun for that tunnel to make it through the night I am biting off all I can chew and chewing for a long time I will not choke I will learn the ropes and other vague idioms and I will climb somewhere crossing metaphors over stormy water the bridge unhinged and unchained like my heart starting to collapse in confusion over the state of the union of images tripping merrily over the lee and the we going this way have only to say that tomorrow is a harsh mistress a present delayed a fade and a musical interpretation like country three chords unhinged here we begin to understand and the music hidden behind the man blares out in trombones of which there are seventy-six and behind which a big parade

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

justwrite 7 april

justwrite 7 april

the slowingdown takes no one by surprise except those who are already so far gone that idioms have no meaning we are gleaning sense from the fifth dimension and not the movie there’s a strong retention of facts in the collapsing acts of the third scene I mean the other way around excuse me while I touch the ground with my forehead or write a thank-you note instead in fact I am retracting any other plans and scandalizing a nation by professing a belief in complete human divinity the schism we see between coincidence and plans I will buy into this text and we’ll see what comes next like let me tell you when I didn’t answer my phone a few times and then I told a friend who’d had hers stolen and the next day I lost mine if you don’t see the connection here’s another more direct one today I didn’t answer my phone it was an unknown number and I was in a concert and there were three calls and I turned my phone off at the intermission a message I had been missing was from a friend of a friend who was stuck in the city and needed a place to stay but by the time I’d called to say I’m here I’m sorry he’d already hotelled himself and wouldn’t you know by the time I got home two hours later my key had been left behind and I had nowhere to be and if you don’t use it if you don’t appreciate what you have and other versions of the same story but I have a new phone and I will try to answer it and I’ll take the chance that it will help and I’ll reach out a little farther and I will do my best to be a sister to every girl scout and in other ways to live by the girl scout law

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

justwrite 6 april

justwrite 6 april

there are a few more points to put in order roberts’ rules notwithstanding I would rather sit and think and wonder where the cooktime went if I spent all of my money in one golden honeypot would poohbear approve and would the move be a good one would it be fun to think less and to wait for the cart to pull the horse what force is greater than love or gravity and if it’s depravity to eat three kinds of cake and wonder where the rest are then you can sign up those singers for their suppers and you can pay them tuppence a bag the ragtime singalong dandelion dance band is happy to introduce is in cahoots with the salamander swingshine kids you’ll be glad to know this show is brought to you by impossibility the likely state in which everything you’re waiting for is also waiting for you and it’s true you’re both waiting for the other side to make the first move and for the weather to improve and many other such conditions but listen if nobody does anything then nothing will be done and as much fun as you’re having now might not even stretch into the time that’s left the only way to multiply is to divide and conquer and sometimes this means frenchbraids and sometimes this means informational parades stooping through loops and bending to tend to its feet as it neatly trips over each obstacle but keeps moving forward forearms ablaze with sunshine and the idea of freckles seeking out what’s next and keeping hands and eyes open and also hope

Monday, April 5, 2010

post 5 april

justwrite 5 april

the window is cracked and not broken just open and I am hoping to learn something we are all going home so the babies don’t need to cry and the cowboys don’t need to grow up we have supped on the best of the rest the leftovers are calling us to attention there are lessons and I am reading a book I am looking for those connections but all I can say right now is some of them are too obvious to acknowledge if you are sent to where your family lives then maybe that’s the point you shouldn’t disjoint yourself too far and you need to know where your roots are you ought to know when to take a taxi or when to wear gloves but it’s a labor of love to show off your stubbornness although what blissful disappointment to realize that’s what’s meant by ego oh no and yes we’ve guessed all the answers in advanced and we’ve practiced the dialogues and try as we might we can’t boss our way through the night air I’m glad the breeze is gone and the long morning ahead is my own instead of scheduled I’m wondering what the crying’s about I’m wondering why shouting is ever reasonable and I’m thinking more about strawberry compote that could be all I wrote but of course there’s scores more to say but not to keep too deep to dash like hopes cashed and sentences punctuated I am waiting for poetry I am steeped in tea I am wishing he and yes we know and no vino no fish just dishes that attract commercials to soothe and to sell and it’s just as well that only an hour or only ten minutes are in it because the roads are ready to explode with the exploration we have a fascination with impressing the neighbors and wondering how to savor our time but we find we simply need to eat faster and fend off disaster with extra helpings and offers of advice it’s nice to know it’s easy to grow love

justwrite 4 april

waking up I didn’t need to sleep any longer but the stronger my belief the longer I was awake and the stakes were much higher than fire jumpers would allow for I can store so many facts your files would collapse in on themselves our elves are tired creatures climbing up and down that tree and eating all the cookies they can make which reminds me that I baked but I never saw the eating and I’m feeding suggestions into the box but the rocks do not a castle make and the tomatoes are fond of salt that shakes reasonably we are free to make our own decisions but here we’re encouraged to examine traditions and collisions of the kind you’d refer to as a coincidence if you didn’t know the difference and I say and you pay for different tickets but the road that brought me here had something to say and it may be that I’ve already understood but probably it’d be good if I believed it too such a universal truth you have travel far to find it but the future purpose behind it I can hardly tell which is just as well because now the very words change on my tongue and I am undone but then fed and tucked into bed and I’m not cold I’ll make bold as to advise you in advance on the off-chance that you’d ask

justwrite 3 april

driving through i am not driving but you know what i mean there are scenes seen through that aren't as you'd have imagined tragedies notwithstanding we are handing ourselves over to our former hopes suddenly finding my mind remote from the pen i scold it into place again with a boring line roughly defined and craftily designed to strike a different chord to afford a new truth i have eaten three kinds of cake today but not more than one western slice it's a nice idea those angled layers and i savor suggestions like sideways lessons in and out of cases and conjugating spaces that ought to be left alone i am not phoning home alone because that was a bad movie and the truth is no one would believe such lies disguised as well anyway bored with such an allusion i prefer to return to the truth in its current form a norm somewhat unexpected though i'd directed my mind to be blank there's more in the tank than i'd expected and no more miles to go before i sleep they creep up on us these hours planting flowers in momentary hours i am watching a film that has yet to end in my mind but really it's a book i've finished that wants to go on past the end of the world as it's unfurled in this retelling i am feeling the light on the other side of the door and what's more the chickens are licking their lips in anticipation appreciation the fascination they have with human activity rivals the attention paid to babies and cats i have an idea so that's the end of that

Friday, April 2, 2010

justwrite 2 april

what they don’t tell you is how easy it is to finish the list once you’ve started it’s so hard to get going but once you’re throwing caution to the wind you can easily win out without doubts although that’s the problem you can’t solve how hard it turns out to be is dependent on the square root of who cares it’s fair enough to say that even nimblewitted twits twist themselves into fits by writing the longest lists that ever there have been and we are finishing ourselves instead of our deeds we need to take some time out from timing all of our minutes and thank the rank and file piles of suggestions teaching our lessons while our eyes are closed we are predisposed to spoiling our own theories we are nearing the edge the curtain is about to open and I’m hoping that what I see is what I get because it’s anybody’s bet what will happen next and I’ve read the text ahead of time so you’d think that I’d be feeling fine and dandy around this chance opportunity but you’d be crazy to believe it I can heave it and I can ho and I can sow a row or sew it so it can’t be opened but here’s hopin’ that everything makes sense at some future point because that would be nice albeit not quite the spice of absentminded rhymes

Thursday, April 1, 2010

justwrite 1 april

when I wake up in the morning and realize right away that the sound I hear is someone beating a rug clean in the courtyard playground in front of my building I know that I’m adjusting I don’t think that it’s a fairly slow and methodical basketball game or freeshooting going on or perhaps a large and unexpected animal slowly clomping its way into range it’s not that I’m adjusting in the way that means I know what’s going on but there are some clues I can use consistently there are some turns in the bazaar that I am starting to remember and however many wrong words I say today I know that I can buy a ticket or an envelope and get back home safely even if sometimes I ask give me please a ticket with stamps to the united states because even though she might look at me like I need a little bit more help than the average customer she’s right in this case I do and it’s true that I appreciate it when she remembers my name the next time it’s just find to feel a little confused I know it’s an illusion that grows and comes and goes with the minute or the day and there’s no way to say if I’ll get it or feel out of sorts sorting out all sorts of minutes to a meeting that I’m just suddenly attending having no agenda or script having been stripped of basic skills and filled with desire to do something positive but melting occasionally over the details that fail to materialize we sigh and smile our eyes out at the others passing by we take pictures and pretend not to be tourists I pretend that I’m living here and knowing what’s going on and when I do my best it’s usually enough although sometimes that bluff is called and I want to haul out a giant flag and say look! I’m not from here! give me a break! but it’d be much better to stake a quieter claim and repeat the same words more clearly or try some other ones instead because it’s probably not that they’re hearing the wrong things it’s probably got a lot to do with what’s coming out of my mouth we’ll say so let’s play easier to get and bet all our marbles our handheld candles on a clean and whitewashed tomorrow