justwrite 9 march

There’s a backup system but I never know what it is this saves me from myself sometimes and lets me trip into good lets me wander where I should otherwise not be lets me free verse where others might constrain it pains me to explain such plain dealing but the feeling that I have that right is what’s left when everything else is dismissed offers bliss the likes of which faith cannot touch and neither can reason there’s a season for every explanation but my fascination with guesswork offers wordsworth and other wonderers the plunder of another dimension you imagine my pretension is associated with knowledge but you too went to college and the degrees easily convert we worked hard for those perceptions those double-dip snoozes those garden-variety blues is there something better than music is there a taste that’s better than sleep we are deeply entwined with senses here I mention the moon is cheesecake tonight the new York kind thick and solid like a Bethesda restaurant we remember ourselves as others and we fumble for the keys there’s nothing that starts up again there’s no call I can make to take me back to those scenes yes I miss you yes the truth’s blue in the face from saying itself but it’s another health to toast and I wish you all the most all of you and your little friends too the cattle call has been turned away the part has not been filled it’s one name that’s been billed and I’m heading out on stage all the rage with applause I am the audience and the performer there’s no need for any informer I am aware and I stare back in the eyes something like surprise but also a dare I am here and whatwhere comes next is impossible to predict it’s a dye that wax resists an invisible message of black-ops poetry the knowing trees hold the moon for a moment tasting the color and assuring the richness before the scene sets and the rising carries on far from the horizon and into the vertical there’s work full and plenty to be done and the day hasn’t even started just yet