Saturday, July 17, 2010

justwrite 16 & 17 july

smashed in between degrees the heat freezes all motion sucks all devotion into it a void devoid of satisfaction all the action halting falting no one and imagining the blame a separate game with unknown rules truth and the cool lies that arise from it surprise hips and legs and shoulders smouldering in the heat the feet pounding the paved departure route I am computing a track straight into the sea a march unlike sherman’s with no reason or was his reasonable treasonable unseasonable like a world without salt and hence gandhi’s similar quest to best the rest of an empire always having its day in the sun one and the same and also at the next stand demand your price pay what you think is nicer and depart with or without the piece today I found the green around my neck the disappointment leapt to my cheeks if not my eyes surprised by little at a certain angle and bangles no more floored by the heat the sweat not so sweet on the swing the mingling charms relegated to last place to wait their turn burning with hope for a different rope or maybe a chain from which to hang to strangle their struggles one dark quiet night and to alight again in the day with no price to pay and a secret song to sing to pretend it’s fiction to elicit appropriate diction I am telling you the truth but you don’t have to believe I am wearing a heart but it’s not on my sleeve it’s hard to tell you’re hard to read he’s hard to seed like a cloud that won’t allow its heart to break we cannot take turns this way I am waiting patiently again for the doctor for a proctor for the right flag to wave and we will all be on our ways we will save the last dance the right chance the best fighting stance and we will lean in eagerly the heavenly trumpets turning their horns inside out and let’s remember where we were going when this all began I was looking for someone and it may have been myself I was telling health and mind and all the colors in between to pack themselves clean changes and rearrange their parts to fit into two years and odd months and to come along please to send the rest packing and as for some attacking of foundations this is also true and as for some cooking of books as for some fielding of fears and some wringing of tears these are also in the same category we are scattering ashes and we are growing canned fruits I am telling the truth and you are listening when you tune in when the channel swims clearly hear me and I will listen too

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