justwrite 21 may

there’s no water but the heart of the matter is a well a spring a thing that winds itself and now you know what I’m reading I’m heeding signals beyond those that exist and anything that resists interpretation is swept up too in imaginative collaboration when the facts contract and leave no room for the sooner the later steps in instead and what’s ahead is now served fresh no leftovers no clovers with any leaves needed just the depleted resources replaced with something else a hand to give to deliver the clouds too loud for their own good but mistaking no way no how no cows to lead to pasture no horse to make drink just looking a gift in the mirror and counting teeth when we are released from our voluntary situation when we carve new destinations we wonder if we’ve already rhymed these words the absurd amount of oatmeal and the sunflower paradigm we shift we lift ourselves to proximity and we begin again where’s the shame and how does honesty stack up when we tack up posters and we check the table for coasters we are overlooking the rings in the wood the cracks on the wall the places where the tape ripped up and off a bandage managing to keep it together but not forever for there is no such and if I touch the bottom of it I’m wondering where the rest has gone there are matters too scattered to gather together in consensus and I mention this not for the edification of others but to reaffirm the ground the brown the black the earth stacked up to push me into the air slowly going the steps higher and the trees smaller when I am a kite and a parade when the shade makes its own meaning out of the letters I write I will send the night a package and I will unwrap it in my dreams