Friday, June 8, 2012

justwrite 8 june

It’s the kind of event to pitch a tent to to seek and to find through toward the back exit the text message scrambled with sides of surprise the wise wonderers and the wizended wanderers all meet up and one asks for the bill it’s ducked again and no one pays all that’s left is a list of wishes and a sleep full of nettles if you’re sure that’s what they are and here my teeth are clean here the floss has been liberally stitched digging ditches some might see as more worthy living in huts and chumming with mutts if we didn’t eat so much bread there’d be more to be left unsaid but on this occasion I’m saving the date I’m breaking the chair already and it’s only june we’re tuned by our own swords and the key’s a little tight it might just be the answer and we might just know the question as for teaching lessons and learning them we’re earning ten stars out of all for the right to pay a call to the undertaker bigmistaker we’re tragically unhip and here the royal form is used we’re hippy full of hips but the lips are left to their own devices to tap each other and settle in alone beside to have and to sleep to keep their own counsel and their own soft secrets we are not looking and we are not finding but in every open look and in every perfect glance there’s a chance for something other not that we’d be chasing after just a story to be written and to blinked away just a play with no lines for us no stage directions to trust to throw it all together it’s just cleaner thrown away

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