justwrite 22 november

what would you do if you won a million dollars if you won two dollars if you won an overnight in a haunted castle people are giving away the darndest things kids say and making them into tv shows growing up on hype and inflation there’s not too much that could save such a nation from itself but we toast our own health and tune into reruns I have sunned my presence and taken photos of auras of a chorus of ahhs and ohhhs overexposed in the lenses the pretendings the lendings and the libraries these are the berries we cannot pick and these are the thorns that will not stick can not tickle their own fancies and paint their own dances with wolf-colored brushes we are rushing around and parading the ground over and under with digging ourselves we are lazarus we are the bad seeds and whenever you need a word remember it grows from your brain remaining a bloom to train the room out of sense what and what and let’s start again you can tell no pen was harmed in the making of this confusion there are letters appearing like illusions on this scene this obscenely erasable space the place where I type where the cursor does its blinking job I am robbing myself blind of ideas and my prescription can’t catch up this is a chunk that will not make it elsewhere this is a paragraph a collapsible segment of thought that ought to do its business and move along letting the white space pace itself wonder if the shelf is big enough to hold it strong enough to fold it backward into the scenery we are cutlery chopping the day into minutes with you in it and me besides we cannot hide our presupposing there’s much bulldozing of expectations but the saturation point isn’t likely to be reached it’s something we rarely even teach we suggest there are more stars although maybe too many cars there are big numbers and there are ugly hummers we can pick and choose which to use but there are easier answers but look just book just travel just use your vocabulary live extraordinarily and take notes let others know keep some sort of flow a flexibility we see in those with gifted joints the anointed ones the fun in such twisting lifting us out of routines and into blue jeans sensible in every scene but to see and be between acts is to track a barrel full of crackers and to sit out on the porch and rest a spell until the hash brown casserole is ready to stroll on outta the kitchen twitchin’ your toes and lighting your nose up right