7 july

doubled up and also down but it’s not over under the sky that we pointed out with shadowed cracks and expanding crevices that change our seats at discreet intervals for new views and longer roads exploding into color and then fading into clouds loud enough for explanation and fine enough to pay

6 july

why like a tunnel like a wide angle lens off the deep end and back around through true enough to the fact but not to the map and the collapsing economy of words gives way and plays again to our weaknesses and tickles our funny bones phoning home for a last ditch firework

5 july

in ponyland they’ll understand that some things can’t be helped although we’ll leave those on the back shelf for now and row another row to hoe to chaff to stray to buttonhole the argument in the pigeontoe department – out of step with the cardinal stares but beyond redemption  through the gliders and under fire with no sky left too bright to fall –

4 july

upside down is the way to be turned to burn off the unnecessary to figure which is which when all the calling cards have blown away have thrown down have called out like doubts like queries like serious contenders on benders too sharp to catch on at the right angle in a pleasant tangle we can’t do without but we can but the strands come unwound – lost and found like measuring cups spilling over and always forgetting to count the amounts and heed the ingredients so the outcome’s always different always stirred by a new wind in the deep end with the shallow lanes still just the same –

3 july

dry pond / baby bear / apostolic church of the lord jesus / farmer driving tractor gives you the nod / high voltage buzz

2 july

thank you for trying for siding clouds loud enough to sink the kitchen fail the mission and mix the metaphors in storage to come up with something previously unseen slightly ungreen and unclear which way to turn next but flipping to the index

1 july

try as you might brigade light waylaid on its path through waves and particles and sparkling blurs of indecision split the paint and call the frame like a picture made of fantasy of pure belief in a thing called faith