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