justwrite 31 july

the potential for dimensions springing forth and other seasons seized by the hand grandstanding the other please use the left please plumb those depths in a different corner I’ve got my hat I’ve bunched those dunces up and capped the whole confederacy a regulatory commission the opportunity to listen to myself to another elf bringing presents from the past and into the future too easy to seize upon clues and to use them to paint antiquated pictures that never had a present time is much too hesitant to descend to chronology acknowledging the rhythms we swim in and other senseless patter what’s the matter is my fingers are all tied up and also it rained the changes turning month to hour we have really so little effect or power in the window I haven’t packed I ought to have racked my brains and wrapped the remains but instead the trash waits the dishes shake their nonexistent heads always with the judging while laundry meanwhile budging but barely so and the awkward glow of tickets I’m not ready to use haughty with truth and inevitability the chilly fear that what’s here won’t be there and even if I care I can’t make a sunflower if I haven’t got the seeds really that’s not a metaphor I’ve stored up seeds but have eaten them and we have needs and we sweeten them with dreams to make them brighter our burdens could be lighter but how would we go on without challenges without mountains and other visual representations of difficulty to overcome for a mountain it’s not a problem it’s just self-realization and so it is with us so it is in each mirror a mountain and in each mouth a philosophy in each heart the echo of something to be said or once heard a secret earned and a promise kept leapt right to the end there didn’t I and didn’t leave much in the middle my handwriting looks awful now too but it’s easier to disguise on a keyboard we’re forewarned but to be forearmed is not to be since I’ve only got two