justwrite 31 july

madder than hatters and those are some pretty crazy cats up smiling in the tree up standing in their fields yielding information that saving grace that leads to the chase the case of the joint and the wheezing of the sneezing surprising without reasons the circumstances when such forbidden dances were held in the basement a space meant for another retired oven-fired pizza wood could have caught the rap but the cheese stood alone and the scones are hours away just the night and a table and a catalog of able-bodied do-badders kool-aid and twister there are risks here and the employees in hoboken have got to have spoken about this in awkward syntax no one's paying no one's gaining just a few shiners short of a fight but the steak's all right already and steady on the arrow going all those miles per hours there is corn and there is chowder but the power stews up powder blue up around the corner the warming trend lending the faith of a disappeared race the case notwithstanding the landing strip not cleared for take-off in a paradoxical toxic garbage dump the slump overwhelming at the helm the captain's wheel squealing for another chance a dance again the standing out of touch and the budget much too rough for such a gentle soul the rigamarole put through like a ringer like spaghetti like a stringer of hair of pears and ginger tea iced like the rice of moist air pushing wetly through the nighttime windowscreen

justwrite 30 july

i am fevering up a storm normally there would be a sleepy idea or two floating through but now it is a waterfall a cattle call for all the king's horses to rubber cement their prints into place i am tracing the line and it is not straight there is no wait worth the fate the chase the case unmade by congestion the lack of suggestions for alternate methods the wilderness ends and the pretend bends in the track counteract countertop every four hours but the degrees won't stop and the fan is not a plan just a pretend lending library of scary suggestions and the lessons i have learned are careful jealousy and the dependency on masking tape to wake the walls from stalling out though sticky tack is better when it's not blue and true enough it's tough to decipher the clues here if there are any but i'm straining to maintain normalcy a madeup word a written absurd spoken token of the presidency but we can plainly see spain and the rain that ought to come and install a curtain to open up to air the fare worth all money the breath like sweet honey traveling into ravelling lungs strung along by heartache the love of sleep deep and distressing enchanting like dressing of imaginary herbs and spices delighting in igniting a salad from its own garden corner warming to the occasion and dreaming of the chill

justwrite 29 july

today's villanelle tells us all about conversation about the concentration required to fire tongues at the blankest spot to have caught up amends and tied the loose ends with rhyming friends and all is well and puck says so and the luck has to go out the empty window not the full one for the coming fun will be seen between the curtains and the screen the scream's the thing to ice and the sweat's not nice to fight over but the clovers are lucky and the salts are ducky enough for caramel the wishing well overflowing with glowworm hopscotch the fireflies shining backward into the morning they are laughing at the traffic shaking their tails at the walls and wailing away whiling the hours into minutes and when you spin it at the right angle you hear lace opaque or otherwise the fever between blue eyes surprising at the door carrying nothing wasting into stationery writing letters we'll never forget i have got to take a picture of this plan the prints so blue the carpet so green and in between dreams i am listening to albums solving unstated problems like accidental arithmetic passed on like the check for coffee i could pay in change in the fifties but today it was in the nineties and the fashion is all wrong the styles are unwinding i've heard but what i've got to say about it will not be told twice

justwrite 28 july

i would like to defragment there is no need to consolidate just toss out the blank space the stares the overwhelming fares the unfair pronouncements the state of the great seal of the union bugged with confusion picking peaches out of reach of the sidewalk talking backward into phonemes into tired dreams of being awake i am waiting until after eleven until the silence overwhelms my eyes and i am ready for glasses there are too many classes to take before i clip my nails what if i need to take out a screw and there is no driver what if i need to break up the irony what if what if i am done with this stage i am entering the wings i am singing songs forgotten by the girl in the third act and when i attack the staccato i am wondering what we have to go on where we went wrong on the way to the hospital poor short story characters i bet your noses are stuffy too and that it's all you can do to keep from using your sleeve to relieve the tension just waiting for the falling action which has nothing to do with you at all after all your sins are forgiven your crimes are in syndication i have seen your show before and i am in the shower before the halfhour is over because i know how it ends and your friends who pretend will stop it and i will blow my nose again with tired calves under the table destabilizing another horizon and my eyes will close the ayes will have it and they can keep it

justwrite 27 july

now i have returned now i have earned a reply i am too shy to ask for seconds i would like a recommendation again the destination is unclear the force is unforeseeable i would like to shake hands with a donut i would be happy to wonder whether the gh is preferable pittsburgh thinks so which is one of the mysteries i must leave in the next room i will text books back and forth and sort some disorder out of the mini-dishwasher meant mainly for tea and leaves behind a positive impression like fresh ravioli accompanied by incidental cannelloni spelled wrongi and the song we sing has forgotten its words and i like it better in the dark where we can park our indiscretions over easy an extra pillow behind my neck the letters all have numbers in mind as they color fine and dandy the lines like candy sorting through language the possibilities we see these are too far and few and between me and you i am through with the polite sight of blinders whether we are surfers or survivors or trading high fivers on the lowtide beach i am reaching the point where i am ready to trim to clip the showtails the widewhaled corduroy sucking its joy out of forgiveness and the bigness of strangers leads to the kindness of dangers but at least there are no hammers tonight that's a fair sight on this side of right for earplugs bug me and so does fear

justwrite 26 july

down the whole nine yards the touch the down the white rabbit making habits out of mole hills i am still waiting for the station to change i am imagining that we will rearrange our ideas and fix them into ideals i do not care where the tickets go or when the phone rings there are different things to be gotten rid of to speak ill of i am making a sandwich out of air out of down there in the dark the details parked sidebyside no hide to where wearing is a crime of the times i am sick of limes and their obtuse suggestions making drinks out of thinking thoughts bought by the dozen or by the ten instead fed by the metric system the easy division into breakfast and study and writing and buddy have i got a workout for you have i got a backward worn shoe it's true that there are angels disappearing and revealing and stealing a glance at chance told out of chronological order and there's no sorter that will place the round barn into the square hole no matter the goats or the coats worn by remote wheelbarrows in the chickenwhite rain the plain deal is to steal what you never could borrow and tomorrow i will read and i will listen to the lists and whisper back in counteractive measures of four-four time in awkward rhyme chiming along singsong one of the sins of poetry the flow we see here in our examination leading to frustration in not being given what we want even if we know not what it is

justwrite 25 july

rolling over pleasantly into sleep the hills are made of food and good thoughts buy what's bought firsthand under the command of newlove above all concentrated like juice like the loose nuts bolted into butter the peanuts have got mothers too although the dirt is hard to see past clashing into classist slogans hulking hogan out of his house and mousing around his home and i am almost ready to move along but the songs have no words or at least i have heard some confusion on this point these joints are rusty and the crust of the rye bread is dark instead of alternating like a station without a generator just a pizza cutter and a muttered prayer or curse as the hearse drives by whiling away hours and glowering away space as i yawn in place i am considering the benefits of the new or the strengths of the current these noodles are the future with this bite i ignite robots and cannonballs forward into the outside swamp the damp clamps squeezing down the dressing gown i have given you has delivered through the jams into the jellies yelling helterskelter and forgetting all the choruses the girls swirling their aprons all through the mill willy nilly as they bake forgotten cakes and sideways scones too close to home to eat those onions imagining the lingering without the mints

justwrite 24 july

i am thinking now of how to cast doubts how to make doughnuts out of molehills how to overcome what's underwritten by wrongly smitten critters of the past the trash has yet to go out the cash has yet to come in the thinning of such things has yet to begin i will tell you i smell the wrists of a thousand writers in it they are scheming dreaming up plotting as we would say and you could take a walk in the dark just ambling along and suddenly your childhood sweetheart would suddenly exist suddenly yes billy collins that it would be right in front of you and you would know who it was despite the passage of time and you are as beautiful your sweetheart is as beautiful as a crayon in every color at just the right moment for the number birds will sing and laugh at themselves with hilarious abandon it is too hot out to consider the within as the going thing but last night i had too much caffeine the tea too black with mint and no hint of the settings i was neglecting to imagine the right state of affairs no one cares when you're waiting to be waited for and when you leave they check their sleeves to be sure for sometimes you are in the hair the cares tucked away we are the zoo we are the watchers i have eaten all the dust i can plant the soil is organic the transmission automatic when you know that i am coming you will see that i have gone i have something to say i have nothing to pay for except today but also tomorrow looks to be greener by the minute i will recycle my thoughts caught backward in the spin cycle promising to slip up

justwrite 23 july

downstepping the sidewalk around the corner a slug living on the edge the cliff step traveling horizontally in search of daring caring not for the stepper the lively runabout traveler instead plodding sliding along cautiously in search of the wind or not wind in its hair or not hair rather a thrilling situation depending on the closeness of the observation let me change the station the channel the rain is coming on nbc 4 and the score has yet to be settled with abc that nettled 2 that screwed up the situation and again i will sneeze and again and the breeze that changes the fire siren to quiet has got some answering to do for when in the course are you of golf of greens and screaming eels feeling sense has left the building turning into elvis the well-lipped superstar the car traveling toward chicago at a rate of precisely poirot christie to speak specifically and when i think of the swell time george could have i want to buy him a rabbit i want to develop the habit of seeing ahead behind those closed eyes surprising each hare on its head instead of whiskers on its nose for suppose the sneezing gets to be too much and the touch is too light to delight in the other side to hide in the classics the bookstore fantastics they have seen the painted women under the carl sandburg the gas lights luring the farm boys their wanton hunger notwithstanding lying down to conquer to stoop to roar as the band plays off

justwrite 22 july

we are watching this scene closely we are mostly searching for clues we can use in ungluing the truths from the past the fiction from the flash and when we wake up again we will scan our pictures into remembrance i will tell you there are too many and i will make a list twisting my wrist into circles jogging a memory worth of circumstances i would prefer not to dance i would prefer not to reach the beach but to teach the flocks and turn the clocks forward is to worry into a hurry is to scurry up the steps is to text the mixed mex there are samples i have gathered and soap i have lathered up cups full of ice cubes and useful information skirting the destination with its easy steps skipping all the legwarmers and remembering another time another line in the sandcastle the treehouse we have all gone to jamaica and ocean city and the pretty fact is that attacking kids with sun is no fun for the evening and the leaving is worse than the going like snowing and blowing crowing their whiteblack ways over the autumn haze the spring days years away from winter and the splinters of morning reach back into the knapsack tickling out the trout with rainbow fingers lingering underchin and overlip slipping water over gills and spilling oxygen out into the ether

justwrite 21 july

preaching reaching out through the sticky sappy outside and into the fresh the air the wary glances at closing eyes surprising finally there is no handwriting just alighting in the rainbow morning dawning futon bright and full of light fantastic like traderjoe's juice loosening the banana from the bread instead of the heel just the real deal shower and a tower of rules and records never to be broken just spoken of gently like the beforedinner chair and the wondering where the names will go will come from will hum into gentle boysounds or girlclothes outfitted like the urban trends of drivethrough libraries and scarier coffee duplicates marketed inside with curried eggs hiding behind cream soda don't owe ya a thing but to bring back to the present a mention of the past is to last too long for hospitality the cordiality of confusion and the appreciation of illusions like the scriptorium thrumming along at the rate of four discs per trip and the shouting notwithstanding as the drifting off coughs up a little sleep too deep for popcorn for major rain to salute and the shoots growing up greenly into the elsewhere otherwhen wondering about the sounds and the records collected into universityalsheetz with concrete awakeness and the fake shaking of jetplane handdryers retiring eardrums from sense and tensing up to loosen down sleeping a crown onto a patient sweet head not antlers no chance in that fish tank doublestuffed just bluffing through the fluff and out into the mocha

justwrite 20 july delayo

the butler did it according to sydney poitier and no way is that the distance through small towns and aroundabout doubting that panera will ever be replaced or the upperbunk doubleup will ever be disgraced by the showing up again man cramming his three kinds of cereal into a delirium of humdrum gum drops deposited into our ears never fearing to solicit redheads instead of stopping the accosting but unaccustomed to such a light touch of 84 bucks and on the way through the day recalculating and debating over flavors whether to savor honey vanilla bean or dark chocolate or salty caramel an admirable dilemma hemmed in by the northstar as right we are rained on briefly with beetly covering hovering between comfort and politeness and the lightness of being clumsy humdrumsy about the sandals unhandleable like the head instead of defeat lounging into photographs and an ultrasound rounding up from grain of rice to almond and solving the problem of how to face book cooking up a looking glass casting into sleep and finding the perfect part players saving questions of helmet nightride lessons for another later day

justwrite 19 july delayo

and women and living up big before an easy spiraling past the lips eclipsing all flaming sips of sense don't mention the sales of crafts no laughing at the drunk pinpusher the criminally high skygazers there are lasers made of confetti and ready laughter at the mis-identified banana disaster faster to the stage than pharoh monchwalkmen listening to themselves while jogging up the brown line to armitagesunday morning opens like a continental breakfast ledged on a window seat heated by the light of a dark night lighting each biting delight in the white knight who is wayne who is flanked by ranks of frog men and bunny kitty girls like a window full of adoptable adorables there is lincoln but too horribly expensive and unreasonably unnecessary scary to say but if the pad has its tai and the pizza has deepdished veggies then the ice cream will be two flavors left of vegan trappered like blitzen like mike smith on the corner warmed up to a cup of watermelon unpointable and the misheard replaced by the looks cooked up prior to apology and the market you see so super european and the bubbles so yuppy so shampoo cinnamon clove new deal what a and such a soft touch to spin those balloons out of zoom and into focus clicking away the ticks and grizzling the hear when no one cares to everyone wears new clothes like the emperor but i'm not sure where that's going owing to upcoming sleep

justwrite 18 july delayo

not too high above the pre-quiet hours a towere three stories and no one's waiting all the talk and little action but tell me and i'll tell you of the dancing in dirt and the work of keeping children clean there's a yellow submarine subpop tshirt but working to keep the processing slow means that's a no-go although independent radio with a dj that's okay although no nay to pandora that's deplorable much like smoking let me mention and the tension of honesty has a tendency to tighten but no frightening noises in the night for the brother sister team dreaming of bedtime and when the white line turns green as is somewhat foreseen we thank the attendant for releasing the bananas and handling the journey to contemporary photography the erasure and the birds and the crossstitch and the sims and while whims designed the bean the silver cloud and allowed the bridge to twitch solar there's an easy segue to a harry potter crew true enough to bluff the congress hotel strike and like it or not there's shop and hop off the train running out of esteam choo chew a pressed sandwich in cafecito while a self-presented-as-neato stranger accosts while sense is subtracted though plantains pb guava jelly go jolly with margherita and ghiradelli mocha speaking of breakfast continental a fundamental corner but no major transformer some delay but hey and they made the music crafty like toasted ravioli unholy port-o-potties and one more stage paging deeper into the program and pulling out some rain staining nothing but time and short time at that like the national cat and climbing up a tree lindstrom free there are pains of being pure at heart but departing from one song and returning to the same one is less fun than lego earrings steering closer to people watching than latching onto sound around the bend from a blackhawk convention not to mention the downstairs unaware of others and the traveling away from mothers that results in such noise or the snores reappearing now to couch the idea of sleep under a deeper cushion pretending tattoos of puffins and sweet potato coconut curry earrings steering off into self-scoffing and the certainty of turning left onto the right street

justwrite 17 july delayo

at 319 it started to begin but no show until 4 and then a different door at 5 to rearrive for shoes there are sights visible from the other side built to spill over into memory the downcoming toll arm a cause for alarm a time zone a missing phone taking the long way to a yellow house just south of michigan just twitch again the little gray cells the smells the raspberry funnel cake mistake the quake of trains and rain the traffic lot parking spot arriving with distant news of coming together right now and how the rain holds off occasionally then is loaded into line to dine on boxed garlic peanut noodles and guacamole with chips too easily tripping over cilantro and as we go merrily along there are songs and illustrated clouds a crowd full of substances and the dust is blowing the cows are showing through the dark there's another park and a C & D dark with all the water fit to turn into a river cruising bigger dreams and sleepy schemes in flight like swans across an open-backed shirt's back off track like the red sweatshirt man and his cup-dropping rightbeside in a crowd and smoking loudly and after scoffing at coughing but gloating on a raft of crafts grateful like elephants not playing nintendo but setting up you know a room ready made of windows

justwrite 16 july

soar spicy clouds above the zigzag sky there are try and do and you know which matters more than a hatter there's nothing to make a mistake no cake to take to the bake-off i am sorry for your self-attachment i am ready for your health to improve for your figure to lose all sense of itself for your stealth mode to explode into obvious nouns like blatancy and the sounds you see are out of here are too clear to be forgiven too shorn to be short-shriven i have gone on long enough i have a tough-talking blister but no sister of mine will define thursday as friday as i did in my heyday and there's no way to curb that marker to park that starter in the fire to wire a liar to speak the truth to regroup into dependency your tendency to alarm me lends indecency to my view of you and it's true the booth has suggested a different spot for the light but i'm too tight behind the ears to cheer such fears to imagine the years will give arrears or other incidental words into the absurd the butterfly shoes the breakfastless tests and what's next remains to be seen and it's an itch between my nose and my brain that threatens to stain my memory and this will be the last class the mad dash to the hatter and a minimum of chatter in my mental matter scatters nostalgia for the present into a hesitant pheasant the state bird of a herd of cows tired now and slowing their lowing i am imbalanced i am entranced by the chance to mutiny i will not be here today it may be i fade away i crave to stay a continuance a deliverance from delivery the shivery silver of a blister gone i am coming along and so is the rabbit

justwrite 15 july

sway mega-super-huge leaves in the breeze the trees freezing at each breath of stale air incomparable with the gales never failing to tail tales and tell tall tribes of gatekeepers to open up 'cause it's dark out here and a classic scene ensues and what's trite is overused and i'm sorry to say there is no way to turn right on this left-handed street the beat of the steady pavement sent to take us to some leader some feeder of birds some misheard word hurried along i am strong because i am weak and the beak i keep tucked away into my feathers can bray easily a donkey's groan a greeting a sign for unseating the majority the whip into shape not an easy escape from fading into cushions into the distance which is now now become sleep too deep to roll out of and with one day more i wonder if snoring will find me will unwind me into sleeplessness the bunk beds the queensize kings the futon brings relief in the next best guest room for there is an inn there is a mountain this fountain too fresh for discovery in the rushed-along calves pulling by pairs through the same damp air hovering above into and through the treadmill instead will you please open up and begin this sink will not swim with your fishes not wash all those dishes although a new tendency toward dependency on a clear counter is a culture worth adopting a diversion worth co-opting and lopping off the heads of state the dinner dates and figs grown big and better shuffled on like a sweater in the sweeter cool of morning there is no dawning too raw to be forgiven and the river never shriven of a necessary bend the pretend clouds louder than the real air

justwrite 14 july

lyrical elk bellow mellow tunes under musky moons waiting for the chance to dance unless the sunset takes too long lighting the dawn with its own angles tangling rays into trees and filtering a breeze full of earth up from the dirt and through the roots there are truths worth burying and wishes worth carrying out in front the subtle months of inbetween dreaming seeming to melt as the feelings of vagueness turn concrete and in this heat turning back to steam to scheme backward up a tree and the wind in the night brings light relief on grief for the weary just sleep in a bleary sense too tense to imagine calm too alarming to allow parallel structure the least productive highly reductive chance the lance carried high as the clouds are pierced with wondering blundering together in conversation in condensation the waiting game stating a claim and naming each good for itself each animal to its health for how can an eagle suggest beagle or bagel scarcely able to define rhyme beyond the chiming climbing sideways up the wind there is a calling stalling out in stale air that comes back to me with the breeze then re-freezes into silence forcing self-reliance on the interpreter and i'm wondering if it's blundering to suggest color when each other turn is already for the best and the rest too tested to be tried too french to be fried ready to catch up with the audiences and clarify a preponderance of clues using before losing and snoozing before waking up the loving cup overflowing in nine minute servings deserving all the best and no less to test the morning against the light to ignite the blinds with day

justwrite 13 july

phantasmagorical innocence drips down his face washing away in the too-bright sunshine the melting results in catapulting emotions is this a face worth devotion or is the ploy too cloying annoying to have to wonder to wander farther past the simplified the line breaks taking up the space the upright bike instead of the treadmill i am awake now i can fake how easy it is to be sleepy and the creepy crawling feeling of insomnia echoes back compacted into my lungs strung along and tied into loose knots the haves and the not gots breathing easily into a cool pillow no thought of balancing neck back tracking with upright de-collapsing there is traffic on the dreamway nothing is free to begin with and to finish an alarm which suggests rest has been attained though little gained in some sense lost without cost how hard to remember in the dark that the morning will arrive with surprise at the number of tissues derived from the night's thick air and chills willing away the hours considering reading for speeding the time climbing dues out of thrashed rugs or at least somewhat shaken breaking the slow descent to earth of the normal trend the bend between green and gray and the way the world works the subject jerks to a backward sneeze the trees freezing into place and the morningwet grass outlasting each wrong turn or spilled milk but i have taken out the trash and i am ready to relapse into fiction this true-life condition is somewhat dull to listen to and i thank you for your indulgence

justwrite 12 july

i am on hold
i am holding on
there are songs that sound better backward
there is batter better baked
batter unbaked takes the cake
cake batter is better baked
no batter is any mistake
la la la la la la lake
this is the sound that nonsense makes
quaking in the knees the down dog wobbles
beside me she is wondering which is left
to my right he is snoring in the lateyoga morning
there are the steeples and here are the peoples
we are balanced we are trees
there is no breeze but thought
we are wobbling
we have bought lunch already
while we stand here an hour before
we are eating
i am eating an egg and cheese everything bagel
i am wavering
there is no sense but nonsense
i am balanced
i am already moving into the else which is wrong
i am back to the present
the present involves repetition
stretching into a to-do list
to-done
ta-da

justwrite 11 july

the space between all those metro people
simply not enough
too much bluff for this listener
the glisten of humid air under there
with arms wide open for stability
i am crossing off crossword clues
i wish i could cross off cross words
i am human too
with those close to me i can tell the truth not slant
with those they know and they are close anyway
we are lucky we know
we have found
we are getting off at the same station
or we are starting at the same station
or we are sitting in the same car
we are facing the same direction
or we are facing different directions
the doors are closing
we are opening our eyes
you are forgiving and i
am wondering why again

justwrite 10 july

when we were done watching the movie
we talked about how long it was
how slowly he died
how terrible she was
and the other she too
how ridiculous that they should sing like that
the voice-over narration just too much
we should make our own movie
we said
but how slowly the scenes
how terrible i can be
the embarrassment of exposure
dying too slowly for the audience

justwrite 9 july

tremendous cowering takes place as space is erased by the tail end of the chase the case all set with clues we neglected to use until now like a sow with a silken purse and ears rehearsed on the sounds of applause having no cause for alarm no escape from the farm just a charming call to arms a farewell to harms of the self-imposed sort a retort in the hand is worth three in the bush-trimmed outside job robbing the branches of their chances of further growth the remote stance the avalanche dancing backward into the freezer packed away with the leisure suits in cahoots with noises buttering up annoyances and ready to take such joy in our distraction to lead to its own satisfaction there are spaces left but the bet is on and the strung-along song has collapsed on the last verse tumbling down a bead having disagreed with placement a space meant to be held but nonetheless spelled incorrectly with the wrong name given the wrong sheep shriven if that's even the right word as odd as it may be left and the next best test is to decide what a strawberry's skin may be perhaps succulent but in simpler terms has to earn a sense of seeming moisture though not moist or to rejoice in the visual flavor while savoring the smooth acknowledging the pock-marked departure from a plain plane giving dimension teaching a lesson in diction correcting what's unheard and extracting those absurd seeds unneeded but greeted with careful reflection by a well-honed tongue

justwrite 7/8/9

fish obvious answers out of the aquarium the brain mine mind loosely defined as a tank i'd never bank on for there are cracks and overactive imaginings the tragic rings of trees with growth in the most subtle of ways the stages set for a finale a rally around the collar all the stalling called off the zippers dripping with pulls and sinking down into the multi-colored pebbles the rubble like one trouble at a time sucked into a cheek to rattle against teeth drilling notwithstanding we are landing upright and feigning uptight glances of annoyance when really we have a tendency to welcome the deliverance from focus just hocus pocus and a few magnum opus-type works jerking along like a song out of touch with the stuff laughing at lines and misquoting notes when we find what we wrote yesterday was way better than this we kiss our attention goodbye we flip back through the pages and sigh wondering why or how and even now we look to complain we seek to remain joined in trouble we mumble and point we quote ourselves and repeat the defeated lines that draw our heads down we frown into our pages cultivating rages of a gentle sort for we won't purport to let it all loose like a tooth shoved back in with a swim or sink think tank ranking all the flowers in order of hours scouring the sink and blinking backward into the lodge the dreamscape where the noises all have ears

justwrite 7 july

quagmires paralyze into inaction there are too many things to do too many times that flew the coop that escaped like crepes under sauce the lost colonies freezing into imagery the blueberries in the ice cream hardening into departure the parts full of hearts the cards living large in the deck the collected intellect that shuffles off as truffles cough quietly into their damp encampments there are stations set up to pace our progress to chase the targets to tighten the harness in subject disagreement where the plural all have one and the outlaws steal the sun keeping it like a secret there's a deep mitt full of baseball and baked goods shoveled from the oven into the air or onto the plate a mouth gasping in waiting for the bat the batter the comparisons no matter the sense lend intense reflection inward i have heard that the only need is to heed the reader to address the stress test and pass to outlast the first hint of mincing pain the strain of choosing better eating or sweatier seating on a stationary bike not stationery like blue with yellow polka dots pleasantly bought by a well-meaning aunt who can't for the life of her defer judgement of a gracious kind having distantly defined all efforts as worthy and it's not such a curse she should stop but a crop so watered has got to grow or i imagine so otherwise why do we go out of our ways to praise skills we have not observed speeches we have not heart and all those admirable traits late to the eye and early to the tongue

justwrite 6 july

saucy exponentials tell it like it is rhyme wizardwell and willowwild smiling as they do it bigger better best the rest of the test takers making mistakers the fakers and the faked the wakened up the tumbled ovre growing greener than the scenery more tired than a speeding monday possibly a fun day worth commenting on and singing a song to this inverted world and its tilt-a-whirl propensities the dependency on timeliness the wine list too tragic for magical realism the steam-powered dream boat with its remote chances at backward glances taking solid stances against traffic there are laughing stocks in boxes barrels over waterfalls catcalls without name courses with no fame delivered just for shivering toward the end the deep knee bends pretending endlessly an open sea of be-seen in obscenely mismatched colors the mothers unlike any others and the fathers too busy to bother but now these tables have turned and the money earned in card tricks looms large like octopus hat tricks the victories of goals the icing calls the stalling at the intersection i will try to maintain connection or a sense of direction but the audience with its preponderance of own thoughts has already bought a one-way ticket back to sleep and here i peep up to share that i think i had enough but is this a bluff or a truth and will the youth vote count will the trout doubt what is left 0r write about what's right upstream no matter the leaning measured by a gleaming scale never failing to avail avast avenge

justwrite 5 july

this color too whole for me to swallow unfurls nearly translucently a yellow butterfly uncurling from its stem pod clasped leaves protection until detection from the other side of the garden the pointing watching closely which will open first an unrehearsed symphony plays in honeysuckle lemon leaning in closely for the ballet the drama the beauty which cannot be exaggerated the nature that nurtures and another blossom opens and i lean that way and back toward and over there are many there are deep breaths a nose to fill into my memory i will not miss this i will catalog each and there are dozens in the twilight the evening primrose promises more but while the flowers continue theirs is only one evening and i am trying not to leave out any promising flags messages unfurling into the darkening like the one-night blue-light fireflies in taiwan we learned about in a sideways picnic overhear there are things that will not exist tomorrow and i am borrowing all the jars i can find the bouquets i can muster i will not miss this summer i will hold it close into the winter into the next into the far away i will bring this color smell taste of simple pleasure the joy beyond cliche and i will hold in my hands the space opening into beauty

justwrite 4 july

bluffing the listener
i am kissing the glistening forehead
the confusion is illusion
the recipe has been there all along
it is too hot to bake
the cake is too done to make
i will take the icing along
the song will bring back memories
the future will bring the past
slowly by a thread led into the confines
the narrow space embracing
we are racing into tomorrow
i have left the window open
the space on the hill the mesa the mountain
the view is clear
the you i steer toward does not exist
resisting definition
collisions with reality inspiring doubt
i will burn the sun instead

justwrite 3 july

when the fireworks arrive i am under the impression that they are early they are breaking the night with their lightning wrists cracking under the burden of entertainment who can look away who can stay back from the yellow-ribboned edges i am waiting to give away my funnel cake a martyr to the cause of less bother for all and for all a good night i will back away slowly i will read this book into the night until the colors run black run white run unsung into the stale yellow pages of my vague competition as if anyone listening considers it such as if anyone listens to me type standing outside in the night pressing an ear to my screen the window wire conspiring both to let out and to keep in these tangled strands unhandled by clamour i am realizing that well it's gone now although all along i had a sneaking suspicion that if i could listen more closely then mostly i would be the one sitting on the porch and laughing in the afternoon i would never be the one to scum up the clear reflection of a summer evening i am grieving for the purposeful accidents i have perpetrated i am waiting for the paint to dry but i cannot i adopt a tone of indifference i can not bear to be touched it is too much to be beside the point and besides it's a high tide that blows no one ill spilling through the broken frames a rearranged view besides besides

justwrite 2 july

history careens through the recent past the last time i sat down to catalogue events the immensity of the future pressed down on my pencil breaking the point and disjointing the flow before i go i would like to begin with the beginning but to be genuine is to begin again and where am i going to start the departure no less clear than a fear unavoidable even in the present i am considering how the past lasted to this point to begin with i applied but besides that i decided or we considered what a reconsidered future could look like and the cook might have added some ingredients but the pot was already boiling the annoying sense of having been here before but the feeling that more will transpire with encouraging fire lit underneath to seek and to find encouragement as the tracks run parallel at the peril of falling behind too kindly the gentle pushing the secret recommendations for embarking from the station in such a vehicle the considerations the delight of expectation the hope of metamorphosis the wish to twist out of a cocoon but the desire to for comfort i am writing in more cursive than usual or for perhaps some other reason my hand is more tense as it is when you try to say what you want to say and are tripped up by opportunity it occurs to me to conserve this space though to chase emptiness in order t0 fill it up is to spill it open with the hope of some completion the release into the warm wide open

justwrite 1 july

crimson left her face quickly trickling into the void her annoyed glance changing to deep frustration in her imagination the whole world exploded and everything vanished there was no one no thing to be seen between her arms no piece of paper with aggravating news just space not a fearful feeling but finally one of piece as her world fell to pieces the release from the puzzle muzzled her frustration like a vacuum clamped to her eyeballs drawing off the sights unwanted the news unheard in the great whooshing noise that was now silence and she had no thoughts of returning to the real world she could feel this place with its erased borders and unhidden messages was more real than anywhere she had been here the without was the within and she could get by though the trying would come later she closed her eyes reluctantly afraid to see what would happen when she opened them she squeezed them tight imagining she might be able to stay maybe could play along with this unexpected twist a little longer until stronger forces within herself could call up her wealth of well-deep strength and crank up a welcome solution the resolution too far off to see coming she was unable to rise or to fall collapsing in inaction and wondering whether her story would lack a climax