justwrite 21 may

walking home I see a grandmother and a dog mother watching the scampering away of two puppies and a knee-high runner over the hills free wills flapping like tails in the wind stopping to see who’s chasing but never worried about who’s watching tumbling over each other the courtyard is only so far but they are gone way off into the elsewhere we are sharing this moment when I look up but on and away I am turning toward the next building right inside and up the stairs the steps what’s next beating in my head instead of what is there are only so many minutes to stay in it is hard enough to keep the balance enchanting as it is it’s changeable rearrangeable in all different patterns I am carrying plaid in my pocket and in the other hand I notice everyone has unexpected cards we wanted to play different games it’s the same every time there’s yours and here’s mine we might had sorted these inefficiently but the spiffily sunny morning has bloomed into different colors shades no one’s got it made but everyone keeps trying we are buying flowers for ourselves while disavowing their value from others there are only so many pieces to pile up there are so many cakes to break I am tired of those angles and I am trying to swish bangles on my own wrists as the twists don’t turn and my ankles won’t earn enough support in one week to tweak themselves through to turn aside truth and to nod in time to pleasantries we and all the peasantry are keeping the estate in order sorting out the chaff and I find I’m vaguely upset the best of intentions the least of dimensions and the tried-for manipulation changes this station switches it off and we are meaning I am listening to some other lyrics too soft to hear it’s a monkey-bar dreamboat sailing down below my window the pile of bricks high enough for seven-year-old stretches one foot up and the other one jumps lumping the limbs into a swingaround playground the summer full of noises and ice cream dripping on the sidewalk the dirt in the yard swept up and played out every day the annoyances from the third floor drifting away angles in the trees and stickysweet wrappers slip through the views diffusing where is this going the snowing lines fuzzing in static-heavy and exhausted by expectations the greatest laid by mice and men and always the plow comes in again always the trend thataway while the crops wait their turn in long patient lines progress-ready and steady gazing