justwrite 7 february

trying to be on top you find there’s only one mind about it and nobody does the elbows that shove aside this tablecloth are scratched with the ratchety cough that does no one any good wind no blowing ill either there’s a spill in which aisle and nobody comes down that one wearing a ring or a grin or any other combination of those self-same letters we’ve all got green sweaters and we’re doing our best to write a test that will likely get passed it’s a doggone blasted shame a tiger to tame and all those lame reprisals I’ve spent too much time writing things that are just not as exciting and now there’s not quite time now there’s hardly a climb left even back down I’m about to sleep at the top of the mountain despite suggestions to the contrary and very certain ones at that but at bat there’s no one like macy’s for giving the people what they want and haunting that tollbooth the phantom with the loose tooth singing in cacophony and cackling with a throaty throw-back attack on the senses there are more dimensions here than meet bruce willis horatio and I’ll have you know I won’t be around waiting for them all on my own not at this time of night