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