justwrite 12 september

remember to send thank-you notes you wrote your heart out when you started out and once the flurry has settled the snow will be deep so keep in mind the roughly defined plan that scandalized a nation saved frustration from its own reward we keep sorting out the channels and sleeping in late there is no date no appointment no conjoined disjointment ready to be misheard we are swallowing wallowing and pushing through toward rewards I am stormy I am weather and not quite clear the sky the fear the day the cheer I am needing more sleep and I keep eating it up baking cookies and delivering greetings plenty of seating on the outdoor deck and everything wrecked as a ball of string leading back to a different day’s track this reminds me that defines me and I am losing my definition my edge slapping a videoed self in a downloadable way this is what happens when daft punk plays at your house and you get stored in the garage the knowledge of growth is different than the feeling the reeling back unable to reel in to feel in and out of sorts and to bake layer cakes with mistakes in the middle and sticking-out pieces on top we are what we serve we eat what our nerves allow and there are golden cows but no one can drink from them there are angel’s wings but no one can sink on them I have eaten a salad and left out the tongue I have taken a picture from the sideways rung of an upside-down world remember how I can’t forget keep picking daisies and runaway thrift shoes using the big screen to show the sneakers from the other side of the rainbow remember how we used to remember how we’re used to and how will the next verse go will it be free or will it rhyme and how can there be more time to forget how quickly will it go and will my tongue turn Spanish in the meantime will my rice be spicier the potatoes masheder will some unspoken disaster march in fast and faster than handlable and who will notice if the hocus pocus comes unsewn the gloaming all amuck and the truck dropping off chocolate milk no more the cold springs of memory running on in the twilight the porch bright but the view dark