justwrite 18 october

Instead of running I decided to stay still to roll over I got up and made the bed and laid down on top instead maybe I have a cold now maybe it’s a wet hair transportation draft hatless gloveless everyone else is sick sort of conspiracy just to make me think it’s possible just a scratchy tickle and a fickle frame of mind I’ve lined up the to-do lists and I have twisted them into airplanes all the same I’d like to fly myself in a forward direction there are lots of corrections to be made and the white is not out the doubts are slipping away I’m drinking water I’m an otter with an oyster on my belly and I’m wondering whether to open it up and invite it to play while promising I won’t eat it but the walrus and the carpenter already tried that and look what happened! I’m pretty sure I couldn’t ignore what it’d taste like anyway who would waste a life for a taste of something so cool and slippygray but what to say there’s more than me on this planet and I won’t can it I can’t plan it who knows what people do this is the vaguest statement true enough but I’m bluffing until I catch up again a good idea blows through and I’m calling to it hey over here and it’s clearing out and gone it’s a different song singing itself and I don’t know the words but I’ve heard of cows I herd cows but only in my spare time and I haven’t got brtishly any I’ve got to wrap up these lists these blitzes rolling themselves up and lighting the night with rain in spain they say vosotros but I’ve got to say bien dios I can’t remember that maybe it’s a trap well I’ll trip all right but it’s more or less a bright idea to figure it out a step ahead as is often said to teach is to learn better and the verb confusion the vague profusion of teaching and learning earns Ukrainian speakers a deeper understanding a more or less commanding view of the truth of the situation

post 17 october

Justwrite 17 october

Need to breathe a different air this one compares favorably with the other draft I crafted a raft out of paper and I floated it upstream we dreamed too much yesterday and the weather fell apart I started to tell you something but you took out your protractor and I was distracted by all the angles I tried and you dangled the degrees in a mathy breeze and I sneezed not in a haughty way but in the kind of direction where you’re teaching a lesson in letting yourself feel things truly I had unruly dreams last night and my notebook lost its lines the green letters littered all over the floor what’s more we have less than we started with

Justwrite 16 october

When I think I’ll need to write a draft first I pull out my boots and wander in setting the scene with brackets and wonder and this is such a time this avoidance of rhyme and intrigue to breathe big and open out to air the doubts because what if and why not and I liked the way we moved thataway but today there’s a spider in the corner and it has no name no face just doubt and clouded lenses I’d rather be clear for there’s no fear in being alone if you’ve grown used to do it the truth’s a bit more complicated than you’ll admit—but I probably won’t put that in the final copy

justwrite 13 october

Today the black pants// I thought yesterday but avoided narrowly the wide legs today they swallowed me I shouldered this burden for the season// I who put on these pants and there are three pairs I am overaware of the ill-fitting the bagginess sitting itself down even while I stand and so now I know lo the passing of time the buy-in to crime the conspiracy of weather and dough growing into fitting and even too-tight-getting stretched out the uneasy doubts of seeing the line the pair stretching out aware through the snow soon to think through the calendar and sink with my hope dragged my rope and carbohydrates it easy-breaks my heart but jeans won’t do and the skirts are not right either// running from and growing into

justwrite 12 october

and then I decided sabotage was the best solution but then the waters rose and everything everyone swept away waving at me and wondering why I said I just wanted to sleep and the train was too fast but all the time I was thinking about hammocks and why we don’t have enough trees for all these dreams to hang in I thought about paper in the typewriter but I haven’t got british English enough to suffice to spice these sentences I mentioned the truth but I wasn’t set free in the sense of any freedom I’d like to have I felt like I’d let go of the balloons because they were distracting me and getting caught in some wires I could never tangle with myself and I made a face at the wires but the wires didn’t even look back because they were wires I realized suddenly I was in a book written for children who don’t like sentences to stop but then I jumped up for the balloons because I missed them and they were quite so bright and colorful I just wanted a handful of that to keep in my pocket soft and splendid but the wires disagreed and rather than get tangled up in that mess I just walked away and when the balloons sang their windy song I had to shake my head hard to keep the song from falling into my ears

post 12 october

Justwrite 11 october

Fireworks in the rain spill starrily messy tressily all through the watercolors wet on wet and the texture that lets itself press against the window and slide slippery down// on another side of town a new paragraph is starting but it’s the same old story the glory of plot devices that rise and fall calling out for resolution but swimming backward from solutions// it’s easy to turn off but the screen goes static popcorn forming blank space a negative embrace wooly and uncertain tired of being fired but weary of the work jerking through the motions and caught on broken nails thumbing through the sales and making neat work of the receipts the grumbling beats of dimestore rattletraps collapsing into rhythm and waiting for the next parade// colors cry sky down in tinseltown amazement dripping to the pavement

Justwrite 9 october

Apple cloud shrouded in mystery can we please make sense can we change the tense I forgot to mention the missing dimensions the patterns are clear but I fear no circumstance the circumFrance express testing all the baguettes around the continent the croissants and the carte blanche I am trying to remember I forget about the weather and I analyze forever all locked up into pockets we rock it and we clock the speed the download needs to update just can’t wait for the rain just thinking about spain and all those other nations united in conversations and divided by designations we are meeting at the stations acknowledging limitations waiting for the tension to lessen marveling at the stress in two growing-older shoulders carrying boulders made of nonsense otherbits conglomerating the patient waiting slipping away before the doctor will see the capital B at the climax the rut where the mindmap gets tossed away like so much broccoli flossed away but those pieces much more useful that thinking much more truthful staying flexible and chopping vegetables unusual salads and wideawake ballads flowing through the night and flicking off the light of sense just not enough cash to outlast the tractors too many distractors without benefactors too much superstition in rogue inhibition and the pot the kettle back in black are sidling up for a sideboard attack

Justwrite 8 october

Sky music lights the night rights the wrongs we sing songs of alternate universes forgetting the choruses and fumbling the lines we are numbering all the rhymes to strike the chimes to start the hour we’re all empowered to make such decisions to overcome derisions and stumble through snubs we flub our chances to take missteps in dances and break our toes it’s true we suppose that the truth will come out but it’s north to the south and rising again so surprising a trend tends to be spectacular we’re picking up vernacular and putting it back down we’re working for a crown and a half and the horse that collapses without any traps is the winner the sinners and the saints line up to faint from splendor the holy wonder of hiding under the bridge and seeing fish up close protected by a moat with the remotest chance of danger the invasion by some strangers for rarely are they friends the deep end’s thataway and if you can’t stay on your boat then mom is gonna hear it it’s a threat but don’t you fear it she’s my favorite of the category there’s another story but there’s not quite time and with yours and mine and the alphabet entwined we’re sure to find characters enough to bluff any listener the shine and all the glisten sure enough the waiting’s through and the yellow light blew through recently as we see we notice there’s a lot of hocus pocus but we’d better just move on ‘cause there are plenty of other songs

Justwrite 7 october

Grand oracular mind confined to words too absurd to be heard we have served ourselves well we can tell no tales to dead men it’s a blue pen for pigs and no wearing wigs of the dusty variety I trust impropriety much more than reason in an upside-down season a heavy sigh seize and we’re off again we’ve worked to scan the meter and to feed it all our quarters—the bridge, the troubled waters and the billy goats gruff, all three raging tough and tumbledown the elderberries and allusions raining inside and framing the tanned hide that once hung in the mirror—today’s view so much clearer and the fears are truer but the sky much bluer on the other side of why though we try to please the puzzle pieces, catch and release is a simple pie to bake, to take the cake and eat it, too, in a meltingpot stew, a saladbowl stolen from a thick cedar chest, the passalong best of generations, the hesitations of figuring out the questions and the answering doubts—we have piles of trials and turbulent tribulations: our fascinations with destruction, catalogs of conducted experiments in hilariously forecasted plans, scanned all over and found to be lacking feet—it’s why they don’t go, why the meter’s too slow and the car won’t start

Justwrite 5 october

In the morning I dream of monkeys there are treasonous bananas dangling out of reach into peaches switching on the light means toobright wonder and a stumblestep blunder drawn under by the tides we tried to hide inside the wide-angle lens the deep end we drifted into unexpected quite neglected like the bushes we squished all our chores into corners warmer than the dark again I wondered how to plunder some other number some other forecast but this is the one that now lasts all day and into the way shivering in distaste// if this is the way that this will be then I’m getting out easy a starstudded walk talk amongst the trees we pay our fees with chamomile we style ourselves with hats and sideways chats with wayside smiles

justwrite 3 october

stalled out again I fall a trend and a half too early we’re whirling through sense never minding the sentences we’ll have to carry out there is no end punctuation in sight we wait nights and days full of deep and the creeping sense of lack of tenses wanders in and out of recognition the sideways E’s and other trees of thought branching out into science the sight the sleep the bright the steep we are tired of tires and the wheels steal the road out from under us a blunder a bus full of seats and all of them empty we are looking for our tickets no one has a seat belt but we’re smelling like adventurous pockets I cannot listen to music and write at the same time if I want to hear the music and I want to hear what’s in my head there instead of what’s where something else spells itself I am a head full of watermelon and a nose full of curry there’s no hurry but I’d like to finish

justwrite 2 october

watching this film steals my sense of now and how and if why then where we stare ourselves in the mirror it’s clearer when we live differently than fiction there’s an addiction to truth and the youth and the gimme we shimmy ourselves to sleep we dance in deep lines we bury our treasure in immeasurable silence there are trials and high times and the end rhymes don’t always feed the meter but it’s neater this way to keep the eyes way off the road I’d like to explode with moonbright questions the sleep through dimensions the forgiveness the bigness of a dream we steam our answers in chance encounters there is sadness and there is quiet there are riots in the kitchen and a question we can’t listen to we’re humming through the interview and answering without wonder we’ve gathered what we can plunder and the same clothes the endless repose the way to suppose worry is to hurry the finding to rush the rewinding the answers will wait the state will have union and the silence will not heal anything but quiet we find ourselves opening and closing the same doors that’s mine this is yours we thought we’d figured it out but we’d just been stockpiling doubt just trouting up the stream and raining on the bow and how and why we wonder on the singing songs and the dancing feet meeting each other in endless numbers and designs the patterns and the times of London of new York this is not a track we thought we’d get to finish just diminishing returns from there on out and so we’ll wait until