30th

I get an idea and that is what it takes to carry me. It is a distraction from distraction. One wonders what’s to keep the boat afloat. I know ground because I’ve been off it, but never stayed in one spot, because immobility produces its own trail just as air won’t pass there. So I give the day a nod and take down something new from the fire that solders in my hearth. I like it hot, but even the most enigmatic cools frightfully soon if you wave it around the room enough. When that happens my heart is also brittle and won’t move. It stays there and air does not pass and we face each other wondering whom is blocking whom. I think I smoked a hole into it and the circuit continued behind my back. No matter how I turn the whistle of the perforated spot smacks my eardrums like a stain. I begin to carry it around for holding still keeps the molten heavy. Warm it up from within! You want to run around other fiery things until that hollow softens up enough to melt into something whole. There is a will to carry it, giving out hot ash like truth and seeing what can be started. That bird rising all the way to Arizona- met ‘em on the trail while covering my tracks. Fast she was and nearly dangerous but I kept hold of my bullet wounds. They become something like character as skin is to the internal organs. Covering. Holding the work of the fire that formed me while I was standing quietly as my art.