justwrite 13 september

in an attempt to climb the pullcord without turning on the light I am bright on my feet and I am clinging only to the air around me spacing out my atoms so as not to alarm anyone I am having fun at my own expense and when the night comes the lumbering jacks shatter open the evening and pull me underground I have found my hands grow heavy I have felt my shoulders tighten the nightly news the useful details fail occasionally and there is no catching up we buckle our shoes in toes but sometimes we wear them alone sometimes the zone is untraceable sometimes the eyes are unlaceable we have systems and they have errors I am putting in the data you’ve delivered but it does not compute does only dispute your conclusion this is invalid this is a fallacy he cannot wrap his mind around it and the same is true for me I cannot wrap my mild interpretation around such a state the fascination the poking at the wound the need to lean in closer to look to book a cruise of black-and-blue meandering we wander into these low lowlands the universe expands but not Brooklyn the biscuits are aflame but not cooking I made those tiretracks I collapsed my hands above the roof and dove there were explosions but neither were they in the sky nor the high-topper mountain of a memorized fairy tale the island of the blue the sky of green and mermaid scenes take everyone away captain jack and there was no chance twenty and three and nothing more could the lady on the land offer this is my song and when I was eight and twelve and fancied myself quite mysterious this was the tale the crew told to me and it comes true and away in the watery swirl so often misinterpreted the syllables rearranged the meaning changed we have lain down and we rise up again there is no time for what there ought to be thoughts about but the doubts are turned aside we cannot hide from the answers in our own mouths but we turn south and east and west again the can of worms is open and it’s the same view the phone rings and the pleasure it brings the inbox the rocks in my socks as I walk around touching not the ground but building some unknown reality where the givens have fallen away and nothing green can stay