Gallimaufry #14

we were not exactly being held back but together as it were there upfront in charge of whatever it was to be behind currently just a bit off kilter like a crooked bowtie retaliating was what we were made of then and the trusses were all over to grab or laths or some bubblegum machine with a cracked glass globe in the basement like a pool like cheap cologne like dishware there was something always just about to be done and the doing was just fine like nonsense in a laugh plundering what’s left of howling or a disappearing act or a cannibal we were not looking we were not seeing much we were just starting off when that stupid antediluvian plunge came and swept us up in its ways before the days started meeting each other halfway at least that’s what they say like a lemon peel like a pinwheel like a whitewater rafting trip like a windy day in June we were crabby we were overexcited we were plain and ordinary too guessing at the weather having conversations with mice sneaking in through windows maundering through megaphones we were captivated by farmland and the way we happened to land was not on our feet always a hit away from the cycle or a splinter from the finish line or a light year from yesterday we were taking chances we were blowing ourselves up on the double we were not acting like popes because the fashion trends were not sweeping us up because the liver was not chopped because the wishes were still undone and if we tried hard enough and if we strummed along and if we drew nights like this with crayons and if we goaded ourselves on and if we were picked last in a game of kickball and if we sent out letters with no return address and if we got clued in and if we had as much trouble trying as we did forgetting then you had to be rightly half-demoralized almost all the time or all-demoralized half the time if that is what was and what was were to work mobilized or not like indecent applause or a badly timed joke or the basket of plums hanging in the window we were not unlike anything we were just a gloating bunch of chumps but we were alright we were okay we were desperate we had grape-soda mustaches and M&Ms fingers and we were pointing like pistols or a hive of bees would go by doing nothing but buzzing and we gave up at times and we found ways to be liked and we skipped off to the sound of flutes until the future was up to us as our brains ended up in the begonias and our hearts were furling because deglutition wasn’t something to be considered at least not until supper was served when our eyes were closed then it was like nothing was happening and we could go swimming for hours without our hands becoming prunes without the proper distance between things like screaming salutations to crossing guards from a passing vehicle or crushing sand dollars under our bare feet on the wet beach sand or an uninvited guest getting stewed and throwing pickles at the bathroom mirror we were not poking or preening or anything like that we were not divisible like prime numbers or bicycles or light and the sun was defecting to the other side of the world and the hands were clapping one at a time and it wasn’t what anyone expected like a berm built of spite keeping the traffic to itself until the buildings vomited Hawaiian Punch and the streets were sprinkled with powdered sugar and the planets all drifted away and the floor was nothing except peanut shells