20 january

pondered plunder under the covers spun around like a nap grounded in the take-off stage the filtered page turn unearned and burned off like coffee beans steamed too soon and the room to grow thrown off a wicked cough that can't be cough due to a sudden cable car run by a vagrant monkey bar that skipped the track and wandered back to an unknown scene a scintillating meme too soon for its time too old for its rhyme too young for its pleasure the measures without end and the darkness without friend when the cues must be spelled out the steps must be taped down with subtle crowns and swords drawn rewards fawned over and lucky clover but who am i to tell that script its next scene those easy green arrangements are salad enough to toss though the bossiest of dressings are the messiest enough of lessons: i am listening and so i should; the door is open and so it would be if the standing there continued on -- i'd close it from a different angle and we'd turn together to sleep