post 8 august

justwrite 7 & 8 august

in the middle of having a dream I am remembering another one I never had I was glad to escape from the trope from the hopeful chance of an explanation for everything but that’s too easy the analysis squeezes every which way one size too small and the call of the wild may have been misdialed because it’s not quite like that there’s a tiny hat and a giant cat and right now I’d rather find out more than less I’d rather dress for at-home and I’d rather eat more watermelon but it’s enough for now it’s how things happen in the burning of time there are lines more to write about what I’m thinking most of in this twilight of summer as the heat makes an effort to heave ho more of the same raising the flames and daring anyone to roast something other than themselves we are ourselves moving on and into and through and if you knew and I’m sure you do and if you’ll ask me but I can’t be sure you will we will listen more we will walk into a different forest and make notes on the foliage we will read the leaves and please ourselves with slightly different interpretations stay cool stay blackdress candystore it’s not so simple we’re not all Audrey hepburn but we have our own styles I cannot smile at every affront but I can turn and that’s the back that’s the track I’m stacking up and even though it’s just one train at a time I’ve got to say it’s fine with me to see which way the wind blows probably good honeycolored wheatgold caramel glazing the rest of the sky as we try our new turn you are not the same as it’s pointless to wonder what who else would do there is a truth I believe in you and there are answers I will try to be ready to hear but now I’m just droning and the reader meaning me is honing into the horizon searching for something else surprising to appear to keep clear the herd steering by and through in a cloud of dust a storm of rust that brings age and closed eyes that mean cages we are in tears and we are enjoying the wallow we are swallows and other homophones calling home and asking to be made sandwiches poof we are and my father laughs the story has many pages phases contagious emotions unsuspected devotion and when tested the letters will come back the contact will have been clear the documents stamped and the camping all just right a rustic night and a gale a whale and a boat and a writer and a moat wide enough to ensure space but cool enough to swim through from either side

justnotes 6 august

sliding across ingredients the yolk ready to dance bouncing gracefully off of its neighbors and savoring this feeling without a shell reeling from the sudden escape the joy of belonging only to the self and even as thoughts turn to becoming part of something else in the thick fragrant heat of the august summer kitchen