justwrite 31 august

at the end of the rainbow a pretend or a real glow light the night there are statues and there are movers and when we deliver each step we shiver into the elsewhere wondering we are staring into mirrors but nothing gets clearer just time unwinding fingers and linking locks talking into the ticking position the glistening listening colors numbered in their own sweet time yours and mine and other songs how long will this game be played out how late can anyone stay how frayed will the edges be and at which end I cannot pretend no one can defend and other such words that rhyme we are aligned against other forces the triumphs against divorces of feelings from meanings but let’s lean in another direction today I have seen what what I am telling in this answer let me say that one car that turned into a bus poof or ouch but everyone was okay anyway six trolleys at least and one of them a double with an accordion belly were stuck and a little boy behind me said look mama there are two trolleys standing still and yes we only notice some of the picture some of the time the rain laughed hard at my umbrella and the wind thought it amusing as well how can I swell these lines with finer images and not get bogged down about town with those feelings I can’t reel in I am honest I am open I am hoping and also afraid I am in the dark and also on stage letting the wind blow and the curtains rustle a tousle of some sort proceeds and what we need emerges at the urging of nothing but time and opportunity space replacing emptiness and things filling in for objects talking into the night and wondering which light to press which button to guess at we are the void and also the destroyers my stomach is broken and my heart is in knots has what got to be how and whyfore and therehow there are too many questions to pay attention to one must eat pizza and read literature and listen listen listen to be ready for the steady stream of surprises of the high-rises and the low fields yielding acres of color and also seeds of what’s needed next the rest still to bake the mistakes still to face themselves in the mirror and when the others arrive when the spell is broken what tokens will we carry along when the songs are being sung behind yet unhung curtains certain that the answers will arrive in a new glorious chorus trickling out like starlight on realization