Thursday, June 28, 2012

justwrite 28 june

The truth is that I thought about skipping this step but what’s left after all the posters are taken down and the shelves are shaken out we have our doubts and we are out of bounds but there are grounds for coffee and also divorce from courses of better less traveled and as we unravel the alternatives we give thanks for the wonder still endowed the fields unplowed for want of a better sweater a sweeter meter could not be read and instead of electricity it’s some other mystery that presses forward through the dark I am parking my hopes at different doors waiting to score some invitation the designation undecided the path wildly divided divergent the woods not yellow but verdant in unambiguous rainbows I am looking for the talent the key that fits the nextstep door but the satisfaction eludes me the teeth will be brushed and the face washed but there are many boxes left unchecked today the way things are going the way the snowing arrives anyway without being asked these are the tasks we deal with and we feel with our thoughts the vast greatness of possibility even as our eyes scan the very small number of options for which we are or are not qualified we’re verified by banks and given plenty of solicitude by certain attendees but the friends we need are slow to arrive and we thrive in the meeting and cave in the waiting ah but as long as there is room enough and plenty of cheese we will make pleasant enough conversation until the time is right and the door opens we will be ready and later we will look back and know yes then the click into place and I thought yes of course

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

justwrite 27 june

In the meantime I was thinking about selling pineapples but where would I get the pineapples and anyway who would want to buy them it’s a skyjam and a twinkletoast sort of day but the weather’s looking up and the sun is playing it cool no fooling those operators the skinny waiters and the big-nosed doormen we’re placing our bets on 22 always 22 and the numbers come through just like you might imagine I’m handling this allusion so no confusion in your direction no corrections to be made no cards still to be played I’m all out I’m tired of trout and the cars are taking their toll are paying for roles in the upcoming pictures you’re twitchy with wonder and I’m plundering all the cents the dimensions are running flat and the catalog’s expired I’ve hired myself a thousand times in the past few days with a craze of firing as the list grows longer there’s something else I’d rather and it’s easier not to gather all the eggs in one basket you know well as we grow and show ourselves to the door there’s more to meet the eye than any backhand smile’d like to lead you to believe

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

justwrite 26 june

And while I was looking the other way I was kicked twice today there were currents I couldn’t grab hold of and the love for doves overcame my camera and I was left to buy faded purple t-shirts in pursuit of some team-type dream we are cheering and we fear no obstacles but sometimes when the dark comes up it’s easy enough to park in a corner and mourn the quick death of possibility there could have but even before the sentence is carried out it has end punctuation which is how it finishes the diminishing returns we earn what we spend but usually before it’s a storied tale and many floors between the top and I the bottom the flyby elevators and the circulating stairs I’ve compared myself with the mirror and it’s hard to tell who’s winning where those cheekbones cut through comment and the elbows jab juxtaposingly rousing the wonder and igniting the yesplease I am looking and the finding is much harder the hands are reaching out and two of them are mine nothing to hold onto just reaching and beaching whales the no-fail formula flailing as it goes in the throes of not-quite I’ll bite off all I can and saddle the horse with resumes the fading brays of a stubborn hope the wonder at a blankness that’s less than remote I am telling you the message through the day has been nonchalance but when I lay me down the mumblings will bubble up and I’ll wish I were upright up tightening my shoestrings lingering on alternatives and hoping for replies

Monday, June 25, 2012

justwrite 25 june

Aside from the rest of the events the middle was fine and the happily ever after that could have been left instead earlier than expected and we hadn’t all caught on until later but when caught up I would like to begin again the strand frayed and I stayed well off-course and of course I’ve tried to start again and again I’ve drifted the feeling has lifted and the heft has settled mettling in the affairs of rain and also of dark we park ourselves in chairs benching the pressing and missing the messing around the active track set aside I’m hiding all I have to pack I’m keeping all I have on track and the all-else that will fail is the summertime that rails against the cool is the pool full of insolence and the splashing that ensues I’ve proved time and once more the scores of all these games don’t matter the scattering of clues gives us nothing to look for we cook for ourselves and stumble into trouble we’re scuttling our cabbages and keeping the beets aside I’d hide if you would seek and I’m keeping my eye out for an empty space to place myself the health of all involved the wonder of how it’s solved I am tired of telling off the scoffers I am the listener but my mouth keeps moving the semblance of soothing don’t be alarmed be charmed and we will prevail nothing to fail us now the feet tripping over themselves to be first unrehearsed stanzas clamoring for attention the dimensions lost in the poor practice the levels of meaning seeming thinner than usual the focus on the litter rather than the literal with abstract stretching through the contractions of useful motion the release and the feast to follow I ought to be taking out more trash to be running farther than sitting to be passing out open-toed mittens if such things existed I will give you what I have if I can find enough to make it worth your while here’s another and here’s for you I’m truly sorry for the inconvenience it seems this is my stop but while I’m jumping to the platform imagine how you’d perform in such a simple setting the book I’ll write is called becoming nonfiction and if I gave you that title it’s yours but I can keep it myself if you’re full up

Becoming nonfiction is the story I will tell about facts a character who is real but not real she feels and she is leaning into truth so hard she expects to fall through and wake up in reality or maybe it is about a person who feels life is too storybook and takes the opposite turns to force existence or it is about an author who tells stories and does not live them she writes fiction and her life becomes mundane she turns into a shadow an abstract and doesn’t think to eat strawberries but instead feeds them to her characters she gives them the gold and perhaps even they wonder why she doesn’t keep some for herself

Sunday, June 24, 2012

justwrite 24 june

Swooning I see the passage of time the crimes committed in favor of labor of a not unpleasant sort we’ve resorted to tortes and other sorts of culinary law the trial is in error and the bearers of standards had ought to let their flags fly fast and loose in pursuit of the truth and in fear of the clearing-away of spectators yes sooner or later we all turn inward we all find absurd such external pursuits running off in cahoots with advanced planning teams and pyramid schemes that will bury us all but in style you see with all the cats you could imagine painted along the way and the funky dancing fray waiting expectantly for the next go-round we’ve found these structures and made our guesses and in the future some others will be wondering what chess is what magical function these small pieces held and whatever they conclude can only be hoped to be accurate though what’ve we got to lose everyone else is misunderstood so that’s good enough for us if we can’t trust the future then what have we got to turn to I’ve burned through plenty of explanations and the hesitation is still there it’s a four-square game with no ball and the cattle call of actors for the infinitely upcoming scenes has left between you and me a fair sea of extras we’ll give them tickets and feed them biscuits but if that’s all that’s in it then we might as well spare them any such lines as would define their lives as tragic or overly dramatic we will take those on ourselves we will toast our better healths and straight on through ‘til morning

Friday, June 15, 2012

justwrite 15 june

Over here with the fault-slinging we’re ringing out the confessions there are lessons to be missed out on and the truth spills out equivocation takes calmness from calamity the difference between lying and trying to have pancakes we’re making mistakes and taking the cakes we’re thinking the story is over but beating the froth out of the pumpkin we’re making things up we’re fearless and the years of pomegranates the paintings on the wall the changing and the stalling out we’re doubting the spark the lark and we forget the words we’ve heard our steps echoing the electric angles and the squelching the folding the dreams we’re scratching our heads and the way we said no it might have been yes there are tests I’m not pasting there are cashed-in cows and the way they chew let’s just say the spots are on the table

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

justwrite 12 june

Let me tell you what I noticed let me say that the way downtown when it’s not raining is brighter and better and the pride in faces and all over the place is more clear the morning after a won game it’s the same on any continent I’d be content to have a few answers but for now I’ll stick with questions I am teaching but the lessons are the ones I need myself I am unqualified but for what I’m doing now and it’s hard to clear that up in points but by the bullet it’s lining up we’re cupping our hands to our ears and ringing clear through like bells we fell with our own devices it’s nice isn’t it it’s twice bigger than the facts when we collapse the digits there’s something in it when it all adds up but I’ve stuffed my shoelaces down in so I don’t trip and the grip is easy enough to lose but we’re choosing our own paths and I wish you all the best whether you stepped or fell thataway it’s safe to say you’re sailing on and no wind no rain in your face on your back just keeping track of the sky there are no breadcrumbs there are no mindnumbing certainties when the author is writing the characters does the author think of me does the author consider it a comedy and who’s this author anyway if there’s an up there wherever then who’s to say we’ll never find who’s to say we shouldn’t mind having all our strings pulled just so the author’s whims are fulled fill up the fuel and light the fuse we’re losing sense but keeping the cash we’re stashing the trash where we’ll find it we’ll blind it up to others and all they’ll see is gold