justwrite 4 july

sitting on the edge of a pin I was thinking about stepping into a different ring a circle turning in on itself helping the shelf empty itself the flour blooming into the air breading the oven and turning the mouths full we are making our own cakes and we are eating them we are mistaking others for ourselves for mirrors of our dreams but they have their own steam and it powers them on through straight in the other direction or perhaps at an angle it’s hard to surmise how the crow flies in the guise of a train we are remaining in the waiting room for more than ample amounts of time we are rhyming our reasons with the seasons it is too hot it is too not cold we are old and we are young but the truth of the uselessness is hard to grasp we gather data as we may we wrap our hands in it and build ropes to climb and also to bind ourselves our health closer our toes exposed to the elements we are painting them blue so they won’t look cold we are hiding our elbows so we don’t seem old we have bellies and smelly feet and indiscreet carnivals making themselves heard in our stomachs whether we give truck to such wheels or not the will carouse they will surround themselves with audiences we are reluctant to move forward we would rather lean toward the pillow it is softer it offers a different shade of day and there are no tests there are only dreams and when we write them down you’re right it’s a good idea and I see there are patterns I see quilts where perhaps there is only cotton batting five hundred or more and it’s hard to say if that’s good because that’s a game I don’t play one of many and they henny-penny way we gather up numbers might lead you to believe that I ought to know how that sort of story goes but I haven’t got a base to stand on I haven’t got a leg to hand on to the next batter I just stir it up and hope for the best it’s a test I’m passing but I’m not sure why I’m taking it just something I’d like to give something about the way I live my self into the kitchen smitten with the action and the reaction and the ingredients expediently transformed from a slip across the street to the sideways store between storms and there are all the eggs in one plastic bag and still they do not fall they all make it home and away