justwrite 7 january

i'll have to cut it short because the cold is too dark for my fingers at this juncture this jointure ligature rigmarole guacamole hotplate but inside the tomatoes are sneezing happily in vitamin c delight biting their seeds with thicklipped pleasure measuring out the curtains for their certain next step the thoughts that will have leapt from their vines into findoutfirst lasting impressions caressing the directions toward home around and back to and from and how many can we have in this bag of tupperware comparisons i'd like to ping that pong all through the rainclouds the icy shrouds of daylight brighter than your average bean seen on a sweet scene that i'd like to rewind happily defined as a sense of completion without being finished because more would be nice too

justwrite 6 january

ice that cake with a shovel pretty as a church in a lake my sake and your sides splitting with all the hairs chairing the committee on unending stupendous encouragement what we meant to say was i love you and all the together the weather forgot short nails and cottontails hopping on down to polish the jolly holidays the merry craze of icy phases depending on the time and temp the buses meant to carry on ought to string along a few fools for a ride to hide inside and under the covers or make all the cookies in translated bliss twisting sweet words from lips smiling in style with pizza sauce and crossing all the eyes and doting on teas just a treasure to measure and all the stubby little colors crayon their way into tomorrow and whether or not i turn the page you keep on drawing with lines and cards and purple harold singing through a book that's its own reward its own chore of pages to turn and to earn their staffs their flags their halfmast pantyhose the glowing rose of milady's favorite sweatshirt the poppyseeds stuck between her teeth releasing a sense of humanity the transformers disguising the horizon as possible as passable to beyond and i'll abscond with those blinders and i won't be wearing them either

justwrite 5 january

watching the hours power up through the forecast holding a spoon to dip into a broken bulb and draw out a yolk with a white right hand calling all kettles and roger roger breaker broken stalker stocken and other words that are not real for so it goes and so on with the phonies and their homies frying all up those deadlines crispy in the bread and toasty on the roast instead of alternate circumstances dancing the trances fit to call the tune for the violin you play has sprung flowers has caused hours of damage to the pattern static in problematic pneumatic tubes sneezing through the stations passing infectious mailings through the slots bought and sold for with tender stomachs the troubles among us amounting to donuts with all their holey rolling pins knocked over by the ball at midnight breakdancing with shoes on glassy trashy feet meeting the pavement in cold chance no dance for those times those minutes spinning it to straw calling out for gold and holding each precious moment figurine in between confused thumbs and other such digits like three and me you've got to see before you close your eyes for i have got a deal to chew with you and i think you'll like where this is going

justwrite 4 january

when everyone comes for dinner i will make cookies but they can bring their fingers along for the ride and to have and to hold cocoa around the rink sinking into frozen food aisles marrying each pea and princess caressing the soap and hoping against coleslaw that the sense will ooze out at the end of each sentence but with no repentance there's no punctuation and the congregation prays and pays and no one stays to hear the moral of the story for the glory is in the telling and the yelling behind eyelids cries dry kids and also grownup goats boating through the trash to cash in on taste wasted in plastic bags on rocky crags grabbing for leftovers and shoving the rest into stew brewing up a headache and i thought you might get one so i took it instead putting to bed all thoughts caught up in the hooks i never shook down that tree this year and the dear headlights in my bright nights keeps me from sleep traps my escape fakes the season and now the reasons are clearer darker lazier leaving me bleaker hazier crazier but when the green is growing leaner then the schemes i've planted will lead enchanted paths to elsewhere caringly watered with sweetplanted feet we are ready i am ready let us begin again begin

justwrite 3 january

if i ran away i'm not sure where i would get to or how long i could stay before i ran back wondering where everyone everything went

the loudlady phone too much
architect for a better tomorrow basement for his trains drains the windowseat with graphacreage
the father says it's very nice is that a flower she says no it's mommy

the picnic basket lost in the current
i see waves of red and white
crashing into checkered flags
bagging the whole operation
rebuilding a different destination
when we tell ourselves stories
to believe in our fists grab tight
greedy fingers on rainbows
the music in key unlocking
this is not my chapter i must have
replaced misplaced can't face
i remember you were telling me
i was hoping forgetting improving
it hurts to repeat to reseat
a different table with the wrong cards
i can't find my name but
pointing the other way i'll listen
to the waiter who suggests
some other specials if i'll just step
right this way left and right
some corners slow comers
take a picture of yours and post it
while i detach my limbs
replace rephrase start again

justwrite 2 january

a suspicious twist of lemon swishes its lips its tail across the flips the prince of piping hot potato pots the bubbling-over surprises rising from the dead the mist the somewhere else carried about in storebought spots stained into the ribbon typing the writer holding the tighter reins for when they're let go the flow slows and i hold back i keep track of the details slipping out and shout loudly about the weather whether it's nice or not or even if the windows are closed the bare walls exposed in glowing relief the white panels scanning their mammals for hair and warmbloodedness the endless bliss of satisfaction resulting from a quiet extraction of sense or sensibility the hostility toward senseless ends the split the quitter's pace racing self against health and the headache that ensues when the glue's off the water bottle and the sanitation comes into question is teaching lessons to the teachers and just a stretch from the out-of-reachers too far to ask for to task more than a bargain to need more warmth than a cardigan can offer boffering the coffers with a ten-cent copper stamp ramping it up one more notch until the kettle's ready to nettle all the black cats and the scattered rats smile through their missing teeth

justwrite 1 january

floundering like a fish in the senate wondering how many representatives it takes to make your eyeballs stall out on one side of your head instead of leering around the crown and through the roof to tooth through the facts to salt through the hatch and catch a falling star in your locked pocket burning right on down to the cotton gotten cold it has and shoulders blab their secrets into the setting sun coming undone and what you do in loud i do in quiet with words smeared into the blanks the crank turned but the shapes long gone having fallen off their horses and ridden away into the white the antelope that can't elope and why should they who'd want to stew in that pot so to speak to keep the wolves from howling around the clock and locking up the pictures pouring out measure for measure of old incan treasure streamlined through the stanzas the glamorous push of metal on rental cars as long as you've got insurance let's show them how it blows by the windmill on a cloudy afternoon when all the peas are picked and all the stamps are licked but never enough to send a way to lend the hay to make the cow that drinks the milk from jack's house the mouse sat inside of and the rooster trimmed the hide of but wide-eyed try-its laugh in half-cynical primitive pencil piles smiling up the miles and turning the other page