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