flight by the seat of my pants

its a myth i swear

it goes seat
pant
seat

i let go of the ledge
but fly i do not.

oh right… i have to be willing to take chances

a fly by
sounds altogether to me

to be
i hope
quite a bit better than
a drive by

dinkin’ donkeys

As always
Something around here
Smells

the railroad tracks behind my
old house
remind me of the roads i

used
to

want to take
and how i left many of them behind
to write and to run

writing brings my fingers joy
and running brings me delusions
filled with grandeur

i don’t write too good
my england nor so too powerful

but i’m probably the best runner in the whole wide
world

when i run
beside the railroad tracks
behind my new house

my fingers are happy now
i need some delusions

under heaven
everyone has one
some people have three

mine was a purple penut… a canvass… a Caveness

and they make you write
and they inspire you

and some of them inspire even though
they write long
and miserable

line
after
line

so we converge and write
the sieve and the sand