justwrite 24 september

pants planted soundly running aground planted defeated on the first floor outside the first door and what’s more they’ve been ironed pressed into service then delivered in a nervous hurry a speedy worry to notice later when dressing calling the cleaner employing a meaner voice than necessary the scary voice that means something is capitalizedly Not Right it’s just a fight that can’t be won though the empty hanger hung slow and unnoticed a bonus that’s a negative giving up its load of taupe trousers refreshing our browswers we can see the mystery deepening the plot thickened steepening and what I have got to say next well it’s honest but unpleasant (like vain parrots view the pheasant) it’s a stranger who finds the remainder of what was once a suit unexpectedly distributed on the ground floor and—glancing around—adores the beige with an unabashed gaze glazing over like a doughnut with stickysweet treatedness and up he picks these free tickets and licks his lips hurriedly jabbing the elevator button in his escape to an unknown level to an unknown number where the hunger for such finds has led him over time to quite a scattered collection with no apparent direction correlated only by accident and scattered by traffic the kind that you laugh at when traced on a map but the truest there is when aligned on a graph which makes no sense but for the present tense let’s drench ourselves in the wonder of these wandering legs pegged in an unexpected role and folded into stillness into immotion