Sunday, February 5, 2012

justwrite 4 february

If I don’t call then the names will change to protect the innocent the past of least resistance the path of how to begin again I am listening to a list a record breaking and broken choking on regret there’s a method to the mettle and the men outside in the snow don’t know where the inside got to they’ve bought through until morning and the dawn will break hard but the cards they’re holding fold in on themselves pay for cancelled shelves weighted with words the credit you heard you thought you deserved but here again I’m talking to myself I’m toasting my own health with grapefruit juice on a justalone night the quiet pressing in but the window left open the blinking eyes across the yard the sleepers dreaming of the light coming up again the light brigade the curtains and shades cast aside and in this window the blinds are up the abilities of all sorts contorted forward paying it playing it all the king’s horses riding over the wall calling their sweethearts and postponing dates the lunches all late and the dinners thinning out as the campaign grows grossly grievous believe this is how it ought to be and we will see how it is we will be waiting and I am still quiet the riot policing itself and the cantaloupe waiting for its season beyond reason we are dreaming of some call to come in some reassurance some vim to our vigor some answer to our rigor the energy we’re putting in some day to be returned the interest earned continuing to pay it back to keep the track crackling like snap and pop the other cereals waiting their turn the serial repetition of redundance and not an image her at all the call I could still get the message I could receive and the lack of reprieve between might and now the blank and the quiet and the figuring how about the looking past and moving on and all the songs that might be sung hung out to dry in the staticky air

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