justwrite 14 july

without thinking I am blinking like a cursor but there’s no need for such language such technology performing lobotomies on anyone willing enough to sit still enough and tough through the easing up we are cupping our hands and waiting for demands to fill them and the high billing those tellers receive is enough to be believe in but some of us make our own orders we’re the sorters of our own disorders there is chaos afield and I am picking it licking my fingers but tired of the berries with their scary carry-on luggage the bad baggage set to ravage all it finds but yours and mine are safe they’re cleaned and the lean-tos have been pushed aside no place to hide in an open window the lights are on the company isn’t coming after all the plants are dancing along with chance in the unraining ceiling the sky unfeelingly takes its own time lining up contestants the stress test meant to be passed has lasted for days now and how we’re faring how the fair goes the fare too high the price too wide to listen to with my eyes open I am hoping for answers and sometimes they come and when they wear name tags my mind drags in keeping up they introduce themselves hello I am a revelation hello I’m giving you information you might want to use maybe write down if you choose and I nod politely at my shoes and remark about the weather and it’s hot but that’s not the point there’s anointing to be done and it’s clear I’m not the one so on they go through dark of snow and rain of night we are hailing all comers but welcoming fewer many are called many are walled-in and dreaming of the outside I am in the sun at the window there is evening and there is dawning but the yawn in between is but a dream or maybe the other way around maybe the crown has thorns maybe the sheep has horns maybe the norms are absolutely absurd and if you’ve heard of being uptight you’ve got to wonder what the sight would mean and who in between had written the definition we’re listening to ourselves where we means I and I’m trying to try but the outside is noisy and a little more than pushy no one’s wishy-washy on this dishdrain we’re just waiting out the rain that hasn’t come yet and placing our bets where we means I again and again alone stones rolling gathering nothing but rain and too-loud clouds in the undecided sky burning my pan like watermelon jam let us rest in the sink and think a while smiling through soapy water and nodding at the requests pushing back what’s next waiting just to wait to placate dinner dates and fated calendar skirmishes wishing for something more delicious and cooking cornflakes with fake names in borrowed tongues