justwrite 11 october

let’s joke about yolks and if those legs have eggs they’ll get away before they hatch no one wants to catch what’s being sold get scolded for transgressions during mistaught lessons we are all so busy the dizzy stars make constellations out of our finer points we anoint the earth with our tracks collapse cadillacs against obscene amounts of green here meaning cash ‘cause there’s no dash into nature that doesn’t hit pay dirt oftentimes it does hurt but the kind of wound you keep checking under the bandage in the mirror clearly not trying to poke it but hoping for healing or some new feeling in response like living alone but coming home to find a note on the table or an unexpected magazine left carelessly by a new turn of events having leapt the fence passed through the door and what’s more having left the rest of some delicious dessert in the fridge just in case it’s wanted and I know it is I keep looking around every time and it’s fine when I find nothing new because what would I do really if I found some sign of invasion in this one-key safe haven but still the same the healing game only played alone and the score doesn’t go up too high without trying the daylight is dying earlier now and this is how the season gets measured for worse or for better there is no one else home and when the curtains get closed it’s by my own hand and I understand exactly what I’m doing even as I’m brewing thick dark worried wonder at the completeness of the night