31 march

woke up with a stiff jaw as if i had bitten down too hard on my dreams to try to hold on to them or maybe to ruminate on them or chew through them or some other kind of prepositional phrase -- unfazed by pain the drain of the day is to clamp down shut and keep it in -- no sinking to swim through those truths as the waters rise and the metaphors fall

30 march

to be useful and then to get out of the way (step aside, please) and the reflection collection turns away and out of frame: lame the duck and also sitting, but hardly pretty in that picture with a twitch for the catching and a pan for the flash: cash in and be merry for tomorrow won't be coming -- with a borrowed refrain and a choosy seat of power -- how're our gardens going and can we soon be gone? park your spring at the garden shed and turn the plants to shade

29 march

convincingly clear, on alternate occasions: it's time to leave! but to go means to arrive somewhere, even if it's the same address as nowhere -- which to be fair is the only else i'd rather be -- so, to be kind is to rewind reality with the plan we see coming along and strumming songs of the least resistance and paths without insistence-lined sign posts: to give the most means to leave behind and there's no minding of manners but the storm clouds that gather are clearly waiting for something to crash

28 march

closer to something but nothing worth repeating or reporting -- we're sorting out the leftover to see who has a bigger pile of scrap (though this is not a competition and if it was it wouldn't even be one) but still there is a surprising lot to say and to hand over in a different direction although it's hard to say what the return might be and why anyone would invest anyway -- i have no interest in any advice but still it would be helpful every now and now -- thank you very much i think i'm full for now

27 march

give in and up and over: there is plenty more to say but i rightguessed the eyelash on my finger not my thumb and i've come unstrung again from the strands of tying harder and mere puns undone with the bows tied and the boughs breaking -- all in all there's no mistaking the sideways steps and the standing onefoot poses that suppose balance in an uneven world that spins tops upsy a turne

26 march

stillness and warmth of a toasted bagel's heat on sunday

more warmth than the new yoga teacher's talk about traffic and mileage and rules

relax, release

a to-do list of somethings more honeyed

25 march

boy scouts on the train -- in training to be patient, to be kind, to help where needed, to be a sister to every girl scout, and to know the best part of all creeds to have and to hold close to the chest o a badge red with courage or green with freshness, starred with metal pride and polished shine -- but this is not the goal at all -- to shine within, to go beyond, to respect authority but only when the cause is just -- to burst with excitement upon bumping into each other somewhere along the way

into the dark -- not woods, but worlds below and beyond the light of sun of swallows of those kinds of familiarities (if you have ever seen a swallow or even swallowed hard at the rare beauty of a sky brightened just for your arrival) and into a tunnel of earth of stone of wait and see if there is another end or if this is the end itself

to make it through the cherry blossoms at peak or peeking through is to celebrate -- or at least tolerate -- every stage of life from its most sweaty to its fanciest -- moments on need of course creation or congratulations -- satin to lycra, tulle to lace -- range of arrangements to picture and to pass by, exit without merging

he gets special chicken nuggets no he doesn't but anyway everyone knows him best and at this time no one can look away and when he shares a precious word like TRAIN then everyone is delighted and a few shades pinker than proud but when he's not sure abut what that sound is he is so concerned that it also makes them smile -- i think he's thinking if you adults don't know what it is then we're all in trouble says his grandmother and soon the perplexed eyebrows relax with the presentation of the word TRACKS as if fears are alleviated by vocabulary although sometimes yes they are even more than naming gives power -- the same way nameless fears are insiders like a movie where you never see the monster and instead you jump at shadows -- or the feeling of reporting on these stories but not seeing within them at all because of choosing or at least ending up on a different TRACK

24 march

learn way, way back and the track collapses to where it's hard to follow or even to see how you once went or even where time spent in that direction -- an involuntary tear clears its own path but there's no math that adds up to a better batter and there's more than matters more than polite replies and promising eyes -- these are the thoughts to sift through softly -- a superfine flour that bakes up to nothing

23 march

the weight of knowing better and of doing nothing or even of being unable to take a step in the right direction -- pull up the dark and let this, too, pass -- and how will we know it's time to come out?  how will we see the coast is clear if our eyes are closed? what use is there of opening them anyway if that's the view from here? grim and grimy and there is no calendar -- pages are not turning and headlines don't spin on newsworthy tabletops -- wait and don't see, wonder and turn in

22 march

something like a balloon but rather than floating away the expansion fills with lead and it presses down hard into the earth and deeper to a point nearly invisible as the trail collapses in on itself and the pressure of the weight pulls down into the center of the earth from which there is no escaping the gravity of the situation

21 march

forward and inward we lean toward the next soft spot, the next bright light -- we and all our overtures lead on to not much of a triumph but rather to a better comfort -- upward to a wider vision: we see from our backs the sky in ceiling, sun in lampshade: trace the constellations cracking and water damaged galaxies -- all the eyes to close, all the day to soften -- i am waiting for the moment waiting for me, and i am sorry this is not it

  ---- when i fall to the rich chocolate milk of golden light and quilted sofa, feel the weight of gravity ease

20 march

the more ways there are to say something the less there is to say, it seems - scenes in slower motion, a typewriter in need of a new ribbon, a blizzard that stops mail delivery, a precious slip in a delicate envelope spiderwebbed with inky trails of hope, of love, of more than this -- give me less and let it mean more and i will hold my breath and count to please

19 march

and when there is too much time it's just as much a problem although mostly that's not regular -- mostly the stillness is too stunning as in shock as in stall as in how long until bed and what can i list but get away without for now -- how unexpected and then unsteady to handle and also to toss back in search of boolean conjunctions that switch function into action rather than just stupor

18 march

parking it is worth the drive but to arrive is to be left behind when the kind of answers aren't in place and the chase went off with a bang -- we are stranding our braids and holding up laid-off outs and runs and we're stunned to find our feet still up while the empty cup overflows and the garden path undergrows -- we are watching for the signs and we are laying down the lines: i am not the me you have seen before -- catch as candle the angled handles and fill the case with suits

17 march

luck is one way to look at it but there are at least two ways to look that and i've scattered enough clues loose across the page that to rage is as easy as to sing and the play is inevitably the thing whether or not there's a curtain to rise -- easy enough under starflickered skies

16 march

suddenly there is a bruise on my left ring finger and i'm not sure how it got there but out of nowhere it's an ugly purple red just on the inside of the lower knuckle -- a vocabulary word we looked at last night, part of The Arm, Hand, and Fingers category or group which is an easier word to know -- and maybe it is that inaccurately focused attention that burst into my finger and caused this unpleasant color -- as if pounded with a hammer maybe just a small one but hit pretty hard actually -- and also the discomfort -- i will not say pain because really it's more discomfort than anything else and it hurts most when i bend it or poke it so i guess i won't do that or even think about it too much because i tried that earlier and the whole top half of my finger to the top went numb -- but maybe that's nature's way of saying stop poking at your finger and get to the point

15 march

beware the ides of thinking you've got it figured out because that's just in case there was any confusion a whole case of illusions sidle up to the window to case this joint but case in point: nothing's got you figured out either so there's a long list of catalysts converting into motor-running hums that we strum our lips to and vaguely eclipse through the night as we struggle to get the motions right through

14 march

the funny thing about walking away is how far you have to go to get there and how many times you have to keep going and decide again and again to head in the same direction and really it's not too funny i guess but the number of turns possible along any point in a straight line is incalculable and that's only if the line is straight which we know is rare what with all the human nature involved in the construction of such paths and also the wind that shakes my window even now reminds that there is uncertainty outside too no matter any stability you might hope for inside

13 march

waiting for the something -- it is unclear if this waiting is a stillness of intentional form, or if it should be -- if meditation on the so-come adds more oomph -- or some other way of saying spiritual bedazzling -- or if waiting should be its own reward, time earned rather than spent -- rushing to buy tickets for it's already sold out for the whole week and by the way it is free -- better instead to hold some other thought and to waste nothing but oxygen as the air freezes its way into else and the something comes along after all anyway

12 march

setting aside the space -- it is wide and open and should be seen as full of possibility or even potential or another vague stretch along those lines like freedom or whatever but also it can be empty or hollow or prone to echoes as loud as the inside of an eggshell for anyone who's experienced that and even if i fill the space with stretching in a certain direction or even just hoping pretty hard that's still just a different way to look at the same space that is still just space -- the song today about the bird that sings knowing she has wings stuck me as i returned to this space and tried to listen more closely even in the quiet light

11 march

i'm going to bed early again this is an effort to store up extra yes it is that time of year when you spring forward or at least the clock does really it's funny i guess it's the people who fall back in this case but i have this idea that if i store up enough extra i will be able to do more with it even though the main driver seems to be to get back into bed so i will have to think of some other way to earn interest on what i've saved

10 march

look i get it -- closing my eyes i will count to ten at least or maybe more and then or a little after i will spin around and open up in a new direction although at first it will be hard to tell if it's the same direction after all and anyway does it really make that much of a difference as things go we keep checking for a light a sound a taste of some encouragement that this is the right way, this is where you're meant to be, you are loved by the universe and all its pieces -- so dizzying in their confusion that sometimes you must close your eyes again and count

9 march

sometimes yes it is appropriate to apologize and not for some effect or what you hope someone will say in response like they will say oh no you were right to do that or say that or whatever else makes sense in that situation as if you could do no wrong but that's not what they would say really anyway in most cases although they might but more likely something like it's okay or it's not your fault or i know you didn't mean to or mean it like that but would it be better if they said what they really felt like i can't believe you and why don't you just get over yourself and all those kinds of low things that rise up when you feel the boiling about to overflow but instead you curtsey or flutter your fingers and say no worries as if the whole thing is even too trivial for a sneeze as absolutely nobody at all would say

8 march

when i find i have been writing again and over about dark about night about sleep there is a thought of opening a window -- of walking for a time in a place with fresh buds on trees and the small of rain -- maybe stepping into a stream in bare feet or toes into muddy sand beside a canadian lake -- and these are all worth writing about more and there is plenty to say about other things but in the end it seems most direct to learn in underground and pull up that cool dirt to see what will grow next

7 march

turn off the light so no one will knock -- the door is already locked three times and the phone is on silent -- keep the noise down so there will be no question: no one is here, no one knows a reason to enter -- or to answer. keep still and wait for else to fall, quiet as the unknown -- forecast is for turning into dark: keep ears wide and lips pressed together -- balance the beams that filter through blinds: a turning car in the driving rain -- miles to go before somewhere else wondering after home and falling into self

6 march

when kingfishers catch fire and dragonflies draw flame -- it is as if no such lines were ever written -- as if only nature cut through passages of time and circumstance to make a constellation of light to lead us toward what matters -- to hang, otherwise, suspended like those particles of dust imprisoned in a shaft of sun, hoping for escape but trapped in a tractor beam of lethargy and comfort: more than this takes movement, unpleasance, turning through fear and loneliness and other such constructs -- to an open field, open water, sky

5 march

although wanting more is an exercise in itself and sometimes the lesson turns out to be you already have what you need or it was with you all along or just believe in yourself or some other such nonsense it's true that leaning into wanting is its own kind of pleasure which you will know if you have ever smelled cookies baking or seen a wrapped present waiting under a tree or heard the right car pull into the driveway or stood on the edge of something wonderful and savored the taste of anticipation before easing ever so slowly into the air and then diving down and in and through

4 march

closer to the sky the dreams slip through -- the thinner air less a barrier to overlistened wonders and the wear of leaning back to catch a sight of rightaway clarity -- we the passers-by have no sense of the tension or the lessons learning all within but the swimming's always easier in sleep and deeper dives come straight to air with no darker weight to draw ---- fresh the air and soft the light: a scene in water and color

3 march

more energy thinking about going or not going and then not even going or thinking about having gone than if actually going actually comes through -- ring true and take names -- claim another cover page -- rearrange the situation -- the concentration it takes to mistake one line for another and also to stand and wait -- deliver us instead from our trees full of weevils and indivisible concussions -- it's much more than i hoped forward thinking solutions would provide but having arrived here anyway there's not much else to say

2 march

to march forward is the only way -- staying out of bands or out of step is not allowed: feel lucky at all you're alive right now making allusions of confusion with a profusion of useless sins rattling around above board and undertow -- how know you, little, how word your wild. piles and apologies -- the unsteadying of technologies and the cast iron alibying pan that cakes the whole pan clean

1 march

the starch in your shirtsleeves couldn't keep up with your collar -- waltzing a small boy off to dizzy and in expanded courage of a pots-and-pans classic of elastic memory with the tendency toward dirt cakes and knuckle aches and knowing it's never easy to be poor in words but stories are banks overful with raw cash just waiting to be busted out