31 october

it shook us up and drained us out and it added all up to less than we started with but the hardest thing was the ending kept coming up too soon -- 

30 october

before the sun comes up we'll bring it down again to town and then around the next block the corner the tackle that tickles ivories -- the tramping through the livery and all the feet ahead that stretch instead to miles and more

29 october

chances that dance backward with an undone clock blocking its own time while the wind was blowing and the sky was turning for a better view of stars

28 october

teamed up to let go to say so and still and all the call has no answer no chance for resolution and creamy truths in lemon spotlights bright enough to zest the best of the old school with new cool alarm clocks that wake the socks off the overdue creampuff grocers too roasted to deliver fresh shivers of flavor unweighed for the pound or the gallon with challenges aplenty and answers meant the truth was still in transit

27 october

caught between apology and truth -- like a useless ingredient in somebody else's layercake -- a rough mistake of temperament and consequential certainty that someone else is right

26 october

and it melted like a pain chilled and also heated in defeating itself its health and its take on redemption beyond all mention and out into the dark before the parking lots too much many more

24 october

there is nothing beyond the pale the scale the whale of the teacup the style of the peacoat -- over the waterfall and under the wire -- miles of the yard on the acre

23 october

registering as if awareness the case less a token of understanding and more a picture of delivery -- a check mailed, an engine failed once more -- scoring fewer points of the lesser sort than the court may be pleased to see: we hold these trees to be self-rooted and look toward a future when we'll all branch out --

22 october

over and around fine but the inbetween times that crush what must be a solution into dissolution like a powdered version of what ought to be though the recipe seems incomplete and hard to eat mos def like a leftover candycane hidden in an easter basket for tisking taskets when the creek don't rise -- pain in the twist in the turn in the end when it's time to start again -- still and then there must be something that's gone off -- 

21 october

not a solution really but a useful use of utility once it's prepped having leapt over indecision - a schism between space and time aligned physics and other marvels - the wonder of understanding beyond reason and the treason of abandoning miracles and coincidence that dances like raindrops backward into evaporated wonder - the dream of fading in beyond doubt and out into truth --

20 october

and after some time it becomes clear that's all there was after all and anyway nothing much ahead to see if what's passed didn't last enough for notice but the joke is the time is the only number now though the scripts and the scenes are reruns reeking like wallpaper in perpetual syndication

19 october

thank you for the pillow i say and the bed doesn't respond probably because it's not sure what to say like maybe a joke about the gravity of the situation keeping it in check or that i should rest assured etc etc and maybe something else funnier but the indecision sounds like silence

18 october

and afterward it was quiet and hard to tell what all the fuss had been about really when it came right down to it -- which now it had and never would again

17 october

from the last minute it would seem to be easier to see the end only you  can never tell exactly where and when that will

16 october

forward upward onward sideways overjoyed and undervalued thoroughly cooked and unduly noted like a saran wrap misfit too tight to tangle with and a wax hand that always spells grief

15 october

but the time still passes anyway no matter which dog or which name or the same again sam like a trombone upkeep paid from each the pockets of the paraders like fading into a horizon is more than worth the price on the march and in step with nothing kept for later for the pendings for the shelf

14 october

some other knife like a slice of life halfeaten and recycled in a hurdygurdy daydream with whipped cream and yellow walls with art and all the biscuits of the misfit understatements and the shifty way spent shells overflow ricotta and burratta and chia pudding beets in discreet side certainty that all this could never be mine

13 october

as if new music would seep in like under the door while the lights are out with a thin waft of cool air from elsewhere lifted by trends ending in the west caressed by beams of big screen smiles and a style that we thought we'd do without

12 october

something else for you, i think, and i will have the mud -- over hard and also scrambled in the coldpressed dark with no socks to be found and an unfortunate quantity but also frost at the cost of a moist allowance overspent and sent overseas with a freeze on returns and an import consort pledged to turn it all away but something else for you

11 october

is there a question i can answer that will fancy chance in the making with a risk taking underground wallop -- a pace unmistakably charged for free with a laundry list of needs exceeding the righteous allowance allotted but garroted instead like an uncertain pumpkin trying out for braces

10 october

square the deal and rope the raw hope into a halfway heartattack the ache of mistakes in progress and the worry of wondering when -- seeking an out but crowded by doubt and inconvenience like a mean sense of penance before the door is even closed and it's my hand on the doorknob and it's my face to the floor -- 

9 october

and still moving backward instead -- away instead of toward, no instead of yes -- and still knowing there is no turnaround plan, no catalytic scanning to convert a miracle of madeup engineering and humanpowered marvels -- the startling truth of the usefulness gone awry -- no try to claim otherwise with the dull surprise of familiar self-defeat beating down the path down the door out the back and gone away

8 october

never mind the times i meant to turn tides to upcreek and downturn -- there are questions but no answers and a turkey leg to jog or trot or stumble past with glasses too big and a car too parked to make it downhill but still and all i see the sun slipping out the door

7 october

like a refill maybe but hard to read the angle the untangled roots shooting too straight for belief like relief unasked for and a task more in keeping with some other goal -- wholly out of place and unmade grace to weave out of yesterday's blank

6 october

and we run out of room out of the room out of attention for the proper dimension of space and time and well-framed end rhymes with room left for enjambment -- the grand sense of possibility blooming from the cupboards as if we kept back just enough supplies for one more batch

5 october

and then the dark comes up again -- here as it has always been all along -- strung songtight and wordblank through the melodied days -- playing false chords in uncertain time and haphazardly shuffling the decks with no cause for belief in a coming relief or at least some sort of sense in which everything will be sorted

4 october

even as the expected words rush out like scouting parties too hardy to handle the nudge there's a budget to stick to and a hassle to sift through like so many cantaloupe living on the edge -- pulling through the dredge of elegance shaped like a plow and raised like a sow's ear full of silk choins purloined from the wrong tale -- too curly to pull through -- 

3 october

enough to swallow the rest and want more but surely no use for the energy but synergy and paradigms -- the open sea to course the rhymes fantastic with enthusiastic comeuppance worth its weight in nevermind with one foot extra on the scale

2 october

not your fault the gestalt view prevailed, sailing through parking locks and city blots on the landscape we can't scrape from memory though the plain sea we view from the east has at last as many steps as they take in the west although no one can tell where they'll meet

1 october

as if there are any right turns as if we are not all left behind some mistake taken like a turn for the worse unrehearsed and shattered like a scattered dial of seconds lost like minutes tossed in the hourglass face and chased away from reason like a seasoned map collapsing in on itself its borrowed health and stolen breaths too close to call and too shaken to stir but still deferring to apologetic pleasantries and the aim to do right when all that's left is wrong --