justwrite 28 december

can you imagine untangling tragedy with your bare hands hardly commanding the language the verbs unheard of the absurd calculations the fascination with deviation from the norm the storm of adjectives slivering silver sticks the cinnamon twist and other fine dances prancing through the dining room we swoon at our own reflections we hesitate in our own corrections for we find ourselves divine we twine our fingers in our hair and turn ringlets out of air and into color the pages staged like so many dramas we misplace our commas and speak out of turn we learn to listen and we glisten in artificial moonlight placed on medium settings letting the lookers take in the view and in truth we hold our righteousness to be self-evident we prefer not to be dependent on the transcendent for the real is much more feelable the tendency to create words one of my more absurd habits like a rabbit that can't be real like a seal i cannot steal without sufficient amounts of fish or ink and you can drink in the interpretation you prefer these are the tricks of words these are the sounds we've heard in the evening as our eyes close as our toes are exposed out from pulled up blankets we are tall when we sleep and our heads prefer deep undercover safety when we dream we seek to seem safer and we can turn it off we can drink from the same trough but swallow sweeter sounds we send back to the pound all the raw wild all the running childish tenderness the wings singing and the feet sweetly fleeting we are singing along with these songs that have barely been written we are smitten with hope and we rope in others we recruit new brothers and hopes painting sunrises where once there were frosted-over windows