justwrite 2 february

Splinterested in a million directions the missile correction system is off and the butterflies have offed the lights there’s some Sophocles to read in this corner and in the other two friends are lending hands and two more need to borrow ears we fear ourselves into bad situations the changing relations and the constant aggravations that make up our lives surprise even passers-by who wish to remain anonymous who wish to be seen as phenomenous we are taking liberties with language but it would do the same with us in an instant I hate to be over-insistent but I’d really like some biscuits not the kind that the british think are cookies but the American sort split up with butter sometimes split up is better remember the police cars and the grand jury remember waiting for the mocha and the bagel to go the spinach artichoke baked egg croissant it was all I could want for a long time and it’s no crime to have delicious dreams but the scenes before my eyes are the same as before the curtain came up so if it goes back down I’m wandering around on stage a staged circumstance and I’m dancing and trancing and other sorts of prescribed actions it’s hard to call an attraction and it really doesn’t get me going at this point I’m a dot on a plane hardly dimensional will that retention full up and spilling over fit back into the same box it’s clearly unlocked and easily remodeled but it’s hard to find the blueprints they may have been swallowed or just never drawn and I’ll hang up a flag and see what appears I’ll hang up the laundry and see who comes clean