justwrite 7 may

so I’ve started a new book and from the look this hook has a line and sinker but I’m not sure how far I’m caught I ought to be reading more evening the score between shelf and self I have the time and endless dimes my eyes surprised by the darkening living room the space between the sun and the window lost between clouds to look at the afternoon sun and to say that it will rain to explain the tradition of time and to keep in mind the past I am lasting beyond the next film and the pictures I take bake in the dark cabinets and wait to be developed I am wondering what to cook I am booking a flight tonight and the destination is unclear I fear mediocrity and perhaps comfort of an inescapable sort and yet and before and again and after the fallingasleep wonderment I have sent another set of letters in splattered consternation I don’t care if I care but in the meantime maybe I’d like to see it differently I’d like other parties and partiers to mend unjumped fences the good neighbors theory frostily posed also birches and woods lovely dark and deeper than miles where these are kilometers and no one knows the difference between degrees we freeze our knees in place splaced through poses we imagine to relax we tax our limbs swimming into stillness and yet our minds too kind to inherit thoughts we cannot adopt in the longterm worm backward into supposition this is what a creative thought process will offer you there is jealousy and seedlings of nonsense where recompense is never bought but half paid-for and what’s more the door never quite closes always those supposes grow but the fruit sour or bitter no matter splatters across a dry smile the tiles flooring another kitchen baking confusion into remission ready for certainty and unable to accept it denying sense and the known and wishing for the impossibly constructed plot devices that fit nicely into texts but rarely in the living of what comes next