It’s fair to say this is some display is it sensible mostly not and how have we been taught to behave in such situations with so much information waiting to be staged the notes on the page rearranged in copied hands we demand more points our noses are out or joint and still we stay up later there’s a fever in my cheek and my calves are listening for their next chance we’re dancing but little progress we’re flossing but not catching much I’m playing with blank cards and the visibility’s low but so and how and when and now let’s take risks but just the safe kind the land mines yours and mine and borrowed time juggled up in slant rhyme the whispers the delicious wonder well it’s under the bridge with that water and I ought to listen closer but it’s a half-hearted supposer who hopes for the worst or waits for mediocre the ogres piling up and the slants leaning down I’m tripping in the mud I’m huddling my cloes together and thinking against the weather if there was caring there’s be something back it’s an easy track to see down and only a clown keeps racing toward nothing no finishing line no that’ll be fine just a pile of thoughts assorted and not some neatly ordered with pre-ordained advice nicely lettered in the stay-away direction those self-corrections we throw up accidentally in such exercises no surprises here we meaning I should just move along citizen nothing to see hear taste feel and if you think you’d like to then it’ll take a bite you’ll want to have back but it’s your track sister carry on
Although this is the end of this trend according to the arbitrary the calendar theory we are wearing of these numbers and our evening turns toward day we’ll play along with customs we’ll turn keys that now have rust on them and the rest that’s yet to be is waiting beyond that tree that curtain that cloudcover buffeted by pyrotechnics and blessed by woozy toasts promising to make the most onward and up with stars shining anyway and wondering about the fuss
No comments:
Post a Comment