post 13 may

justwrite 13 may

it’s possible that I’m too old for trolls to be told about the gold in my pocket the locket pictured neckwise thrice and twice around the block there are clocks balking at the states but the colors red and blue bleed through the white there are nights I cannot sleep there are deep doubts and rainbow trout which are already plural without sending another letter along I bought a stamp I camped in the rain but the plain dealer the newspaper stealer the ice cream reeler we are all fishers of something and many of men but these are mostly easily bated hooks the looks the truth set free by itself to run around in the market to bark up all those skirts to listen ‘til it hurts and to pretend not to know the supposed blows coming to the nose the tissues misused in unimaginable tragedy the mess we see we clean and be clean easily the parts three and four my friends we can only content with one and two for now and that’s only on Thursdays which is today so that’s a fine adjustment a spine in line with my own wishes the delicious fishes made of clouds loudly announce it’s that time again I am repeating the same album which some see as sacrelige but it’s putting me in a good place remember when I used to and there are shortcuts but they don’t fit on my desktop who is it who made the problem out of the space was it my turn to chase my own tail can we fail ourselves without failing each other or the other way around we’ll never have to be switched into perfect harmony that’s a tuba a salat shuba which I will never eat and it’s a heat I’d throw back into the fire but not myself I’d hire a hew-and-crier that seems like a safe bet and you’ll never guess what’s next but it looks like bed and it smells like a book and I’m cooking up a specialty recipe with most of what I want in one easyreach spot but come to think it’s really not much and maybe this is touching on something more than space maybe this is a race I don’t have to run much farther

justwrite 12 may

before I sit down I will have to stand up and say a few words perhaps you’ve heard and perhaps your absurd tendencies depend on seizing each moment and shaking it tremendously there are leaves but they are here to stay for may and somewhat beyond there are solutions and resolutions we are undecided but others hide their hands instead of raising the stakes making mistakes with our mouths is the easiest way once you’ve heard what we say you will wonder why we didn’t stay that way or you may hunger for more what’s still in store cannot be bought you ought to listen you ought to pay attention and other prices it’s yours what’s more it cannot be taken once you’ve baken all the cookies and wrought all the iron the wrinkled sheets to the wind spin again around drowning in cotton sunlight we are brighter than gingham and more flavorful I have crossstitched those itches into a pillow swinging partners round and round and do-si-do-ing over the ground and through the river and grandmother’s house never saw such a hoopla there’s cabbage soup a-plenty and in the licorice patch we’ve snatched our own bites you might have asked first but it’s an unrehearsed symphony and it’s a million different buttons sown across the floor waiting for more than their fair chance to dance on borrowed strings the needle hurdling through cloth lost and found like the air in lungs too tired for sound I am tightwound and wordweary we are fearing emptiness and today three times I listened while pretending to talk I nodded my head I gawked at my own quiet I rioted against the dark in an earlysummer sun I am sitting on the concrete I am incomplete and undefeated I am compelling I am yelling and the color is yet to be determined will we buy a house will we feed a mouse and when will all the beards disappear with fearful consequences we cannot mention these lessons without learning we cannot make butter without ever churning and here I destroy the overeasy endrhythmrhyme