justwrite 2 june

Although the time was going forward I was writing the date backward the deadlines already past as I prescribed their completion in the future or is it proscribed rather I’ve described the situation and the hesitation in verbiage strikes as absurd in the unheard speech of a softly written message the keys and the fingers lingering lovingly together seeming to sense sentences before my mind can grasp the task at hand the landing of some strange crafts the rough drafts pouring out of my eyes as the disguised reality it seems to be we are pleased to be here thanks and we are lining up the ranks of those who ought to be congratulated who ought to just be twitterpated at the amount of effort that went into those pansies that handed down that laundry and that fried up such a puzzle that the neighbors might hardly dare ask there are tasks there are lasting impressions and when I write tomorrow it will be about ordering hot chocolate that playagain scene the part before meanlymouthed phonetalkers tried to snactch up the tablecloth and there there that’s then then but onward I will write about a holiday identified by its color there is no number but tomorrow and I think that’s how far I’ll run we are stunned without deadlines we define ourselves by limits but to swim in it and to emerge again the courage to hand in letters of resignation to sign off on approval without documentation we are waiting to be stamped and the damp hands clammy in eager reluctance a tucked branch of something up on the dashboard and another set in the windshield wipers though heaven forbid it should rain and I suppose that’s the very idea as the scuttling turns to Sunday and the baking all is done while the curtains washed so rarely take their turn with morning light