justwrite 5 august

While I am making a list of to-do there are goings-on and other hyphenated situations birthdays and out-of-sorts purported-to-be-concluded resolutions I am the step before the last I am the one who will build you up and when you are ready to settle to meddle in something stronger for keeps the weeps are off the sweep is across the board around the table and under the tree I’m tired of well okay I’m tired of odd wheeling I’m the extra angle and there’s plenty to cover the proof if you add and subtract and counteract the throwing-off that I’ve done and the turning-around that’s gone on then it’s easy enough to say the game has played itself out I’m doubting the otherwise and whether it could be it seems to be that this is how it’s looking this is now what’s cooking from the recipe the ingredients the expedience with which I’ve ushered in certainty it’s not hurting me to forecast such clouds and I’ve allowed plenty of confusion to color the scene all beyond the lines all the simple times cast aside and hidden in pride I am looking for a one-bedroom and I am planning on the futon the future on the end table is balanced by a book the composition less glistening than a dewy fresh fruit of your choice the moist deliciousness reflected in the zoom-ed up closeness and the hocus with the pokeness leads to more whatnow wonderings and the plunderings of such self-deprecating dreams leads back to the scenes of the artists we imagined with lightbulbs on strings and cans of beans we would have matching headboards though the red crushed velvet from the thrift store on the edge of town and we would live as if anyone could be watching and moved at any time yes those are the chosen the colorful the bright spots in the general haze and yes we would be known we would be living in the past and future again and vaguely blurring out the present in the bare bulb glow and the sparks of proximity