justwrite 3 august

sometimes when i speak my tongue falls out it's hanging about and the words it picks up the sounds it licks up tick me off flick cloth and other felt ideas thickly across the room i am swooning with confusion when the illusions of my ideas fall away and we stay strangers to the words we've heard out of our own mouths my knowing drops south and my guessing rises surprisingly we are trying trees on for height we are blighting our lights and turning off the dark i have parked in this spot and i am looking out the window when the phone rings the truth sings back in a night breeze i am freezing my forehead and hoping the rest will follow a mellow tomorrow sounds peaceful i have got trays full of grace and idiomatic expressions i am teaching lessons and also learning what i've been yearning to find out we seek and we find and in between the lines we write our own discoveries shoving everything else out of the way we are playing for keeps for leaps and bounds the hands we've found to hold turned to gold at the right touch the much appreciated questioned and the rest wondering about its role over the river and through the woods the good and the great the dinner dates and the calendar calling all the shots there are lots and they are not all on target as large as it might seem from this angle we are trying but there are more than three lines and they add up to too much to touch roughly approximating the saving of a nation and the declaring of independence the phantom of a menace the movie to make out of it to shout a bit and then to bed