31 march

drop still down hard tight fast fall fall fall deep twist breath chest catch turn fall fear faster tired lost dark down sleep still fast on on alone apart awhile afraid askance melting slipping sliding subtle single slipping going gone

30 march

parched with a wet whistle and smooth as a thistledown caterwaul the stalling we do as a call-in show grows leaps and bounds aboveground when the moon wakes up too full but the pull of the tides waxes poetic with a hectic schedule to spread across sheets and slip undercover and nobody dreams when they're dead

29 march

ran out of space and time but on the upside we can't hide in the bottom of a well so we will sink or swim in certainty the sky is still above

28 march

lights down and crickets up -- the thicket stuffed with thickest sounds -- peepers ground low and sky high in bare tree echos of nearly spring efforts that wait for the right force of rain or wind or will or sun to stun their surroundings by expanding into exploring growth and the hope of a new season while still aching cold that's bone deep --

27 march

stuffed full of potatoes and rumbled down the tumbleweed hillside into a gully a valley so low there's a throw away from a stone that groans to be gone and the loan is a strong way up to the dock while the wrong way turned is a daylight clock we'll never get ahead of -- we'll be kept well instead of -- keep the fire low or we will burn straight through too soon

26 march

just a few days and the haze will lift -- the glaze will strip the sweet oily shine from the face of every clock that talks back -- the track to a second coming close to a minute away -- stay and be delivered, stand and shiver in time with the elegant alarms ringing forth and fifth with a sixth mention of four dimensions we cannot get around at all

25 march

it's been a roller coaster of a cathedral and the short story blind man is over the edge with realism while the rest of us shrug our shoulders or tighten up in hesitated paralysis until the next alarm clocks until the next tick talks with nothing much to say but a foot to swallow whole and a salary that's doling out allotments not spend on candy canes and sugar fairs but rumpled sheets of chewing gum haywire with fired-up cinnamon and scandal riding disappointment -- cannot vent without the wish for deletion for a clean screen scrambled like busybody eggs in the backseat while we meet our apologies coming as they go --

24 march

nothing left to regret to go get to wish yet another page would turn to earn some other ending pretending we're not caught in a lot of the wrong channels while mostly there is static too dramatic to resolve and i've called for a sunset before it was noon though the moon loses its tongue in translation when the dark comes on too deep -- but let's sleep awhile and set aside the plans to wake again

23 march

to assert is to hurt the silence the spacing the doublebassing that boldly underlines the wonders fine away and far between the scenes from an eleven o'clock biscuit and all the jam we can stick in our pockets -- lock it down and let it go -- there's colder now than any snow drift sifting out the weak water worries and rattling all the odd bits clipped full raw

22 march

can't keep it up enough to starch the shorts that march on without us that run races we can't escape and take cakes we eat too much of -- to shove the rest in the closed and shelve the drawers is to store up some other answer we can't take a chance on now but worry after when it will pop up --

21 march

in the dark the light melts and streams downhill into some other excuse for reuse and reminders of the finders' fees we pay for being found or coming around at least while the feast overwhelms the table and the famine is more than a fable when you switch back and forth between metaphors and literal scores you could take to the bank if it didn't rank quite so low and there wasn't quite so much refreeze

20 march

to bluff too tough to believe when we weave under and through the useful answers to take sidelong chances with whirlwind disregard and it's hard to escape from the tunnel when there only looks like one clear way out but the troutstream runs uphill and the salmon all fly standby as we huddle up our forces and then all split off alone

19 march

how little is enough when the touch is just a point with no other to graph and no hoping to laugh in rhyme for the foreseeable --  just a bit of chill in the circling as we settle as we rattle some kind of chains and rearrange our own paths into collapsing concentrics while we try to sink the hat tricks

18 march

there might have been another way to do it but true as that may be we see our own excuses coming up to the top of the screen while we mean well and we taste smells of a future color unmuddled by sense -- na kryshchatik vicim ah -- and the address for a cab i don't need to take is the line break of eventuality and the stunning causality of a different way to go with the show being the thing and the means turning into end --

17 march

there's a starch to those potatoes that makes them stand up because they can't sit through that hot water and not be bothered by the treatment that we meant to tuck underfoot but the look is unrepenting and the crimes are unrelenting whether against ourselves or future somethings -- while the numbing's wearing on and deliveries say they won't be long, let me keep my own council and an ounce full of otherwise will cure what doesn't ail me while the medicines we sink to swim in falter and then fail me

16 march

We have nothing much to say these days but the play that was the thing brings its own confusion with illusions undercover and I'd rather phone in the epilogue but the monologue is unseasonable and those treasonable thoughts bought their own end to pretend is the next act but I track my own disappearance with the clearance of a hawk and the eyed that are closed.

15 march

settle instead for a baked potato and know when they go their own ways - apart afar beyond together - the weather leaves something to be desired and it needs a weight to put the brakes on movement because the dents in opportunity will lead to collapse and the traps we fall into will bring you and your courses into grading and banks to be raiding the sun for some bright shine of investment paying off -- though it's best spent in a muddy trough wondering after stars

14 march

on the one side i've only got a few lines and even combined they're not enough for a role play that stages sets and runs the paces with interlaces and disregard -- words are hard when all you've got is vocabulary and the facts are staring back in dark contrast with the brighter days you'd figured instead and anyway what's read must be the rights or we're all in for some arresting developments --

13 march

keep in mind we've refined our thoughts to the ones we've bought and paid for with way more than lottery tickets and sticky wickets and all the king's horses go roundabouts with all the doubts that crack their eggs and fry their legs in a scrambled tangle -- a tickly tango that gives more than it receives in a two-step unkempt mousetrap apartment with alarms set off and all the crocuses pocusing in the magic of spring and the ring on the bells that carol on and sing the gone november while dreaming still of tipperary -- come along what may --

12 march

got a call and stalled out the rest of the way so no play's the thing and i bring the focus back on noticing none of the above just bluffing to shove and pushing love to a different shelf -- someone else's health to toast to and we roast few and far between but mean well more or less though under stress we bless ourselves before we sneeze in case we leave too much to the imagination before leaving for the station ready to transfer to parts unknown and other connecting stops --

11 march

light between the clouds but the sun sets anyway any day from a likewise pack stacked up unshuffled like feathers stuffed in a suitcase instead of worn for flight -- a bright approach but hard to say if it's landing from where i'm standing though the odds are it's a long shot and i've got to go in for an eye test

10 march

pave the way and find you've been moving along the whole time lapse stack pack with static cling to the timelines undefined by understanding and cataloged up staircases and walkinplaces like treadmills and elliptical conveniences that mean this is the fastest way to avoid progress but the address does change and the scenes rearrange and we all must have moved on since then --

9 march

full off the goodluck flagpole as the elegance ensued and we take the rest for a pumpkin roll -- hide the silver and mow the moat -- take all the cheese that never would have floated -- these are all the harmless ones, those are all the ways out -- let the spiders web the log: there's time enough for tea

8 march

sunglasses in the living room when even the dark is too bright and the light seen as fantastic for tripping slips from the wrong song into mirrorsharp slits of glare to flare uneasily between the freezing quiet and the vacant thaw -- between and yet no motion -- frozen in resin -- in amber -- in still -- 

7 march

and then it rains but we don't mention it because the flood is already steady on the rise even without it and we think of doing something else instead but mostly we just get wet and hope to find we float

6 march

almost to something else looks much like the same and i can't blame for getting less when when anyway i have less to give -- to grab more and ask for and get is yet another step away down the stretch to catch a glimpse -- to rinse and repeat -- to meet defeat at the door and ask it in for tea --

5 march

can't sleep through the night -- can't untie the afterthoughts alarmclocking their way through every halfspoken word -- absurd how the hurry to make meaning turns meaner than forgiveness -- we give this way our apologies in advance on the off chance that the meek will stay mild and the motions will be filed in pantomime briefs -- a relief to turn mute when the impulses in cahoots with misadventuring words means those heard are too late to step back from though the rest are held back in confusion

4 march

write a letter that wasn't delivered and then another and then whole words of alphabets returned to sender and no forwarding address for redress or further questioning -- the rejection seen through incremental steps back collapsing on a path that once trended forward and tended more words than a growing garden could sow or reap or keep close but the blooms exposed to cold turn metaphors to mold and dust and rust the trust so slowly built and rack to ruin and mildewy guilt -- no one's home in the house that jack built --

3 march

somewhere in the space between there grows a door and then a dozen and somewhere we are wandering wondering while the knobs are turning wiser clock and counter -- there ought to be windows, too, but we can't see through to any other solutions and the useless is the lock and the knock seems not worthwhile --

2 march

in the dark which is blown away the players make no baskets and take to task no silver dollars for underpillow tooth work -- the easy lurch from sound to sick, the quiet tick of new to late -- the weather that will have its own to keep

1 march

where the wild fringe trims its own edges before hedge turns to holy water and tomatoes have their say -- way beyond the scope of sequence there's a free chance that directions haven't been given or received and we're pleased to board the right vessels and mess all the passes while the classes keep running and the grades all start to fail --