justwrite 19 december

A day in the life of Ukraine which is this day which is any day every day we play our parts we start again again and the end never nearer the path sometimes clearer and when we steer sometimes for the best sometimes toward the west and the rest of the test-takers and those smile-fakers fall on fields fallow or hallowed the scholarly leanings the wideawake dreamings we are the surprisers the surmisers of what might be the cups full of possibly tea or leaves or wax-drip pictures the stitches and the structures the things that make you go boom-chaka-laka and-a what you say with the potatoes and the carrots the gems you want to stare at with their tired brilliance it’s hard to be shiny all of the timey and the systems put in place chase their tails never failing to flail out of step we neglect our posture and we lean slow back we counteract our twice-told tales cut off as we flail in and out of sense the tense hardly present and the past much more hesitant than the future sutured together with all-weather thread hanging on instead by a wing and a prayer and a hard-knuckled stare in the mirror with the clearer view wandering through and in and out of time we rhyme beyond sense