justwrite 8 july

halfway between then and where I was thinking about time traveling between the lines and the meaning seemed obscure I was seeing pictures from a different age a fine time but another one a different sun rising but the same one setting I am getting myself confused I’ve abused this notion past the point of sense but I can’t help mentioning that the past and the future get awkwardly sutured sometimes and the rhymes are crimes messing with the times and neglecting to present the present in a reasonable timeframe rearranging our expectations and changing the stations to settle on static it’s much less dramatic but clearly germane to remain fluid to be fluent to speak freely to blend easily the ideas and the tongue with colors and numbers pulled from thin air and sculpted into elsewhat otherwhere and stranger combinations of sounds we’re around the block and again we go and I thought I’d know more by now but it’s a strange cow that rings its own bell that calls itself in from the pasture and I know I want no master I’m asking for no disaster but the correction of a little direction would not go to waste I’m running but not chaste and I’ve got no need for haste just rather no place like the present no time like here and steering clear of the concrete I sweeten the abstract with love and lively lines the language fine when the ideas are not I caught a fish in a soup pot but I didn’t cook it I couldn’t look it in the eye without making a wish and granting it so we’re having salad again we’re in those sorts of days the watermelon haze settles over us and sweetens our lips we are eclipsed by juice and sticky fingers lingering in dreams we see ourselves whole and ripe we have our pick of the crop and we wrap the strands of our imaginings in gentle fantasy there is no story but the one I write there is no sleep but there is night writing of parallel days the future haze of a different plain a universe remaining out of reach preaching neither right nor wrong but other and this is the butter for our morning toast popping up sunrise high and fresh