mending fences

i've been having to do more talking than i usually like to do. i like to muse on things, I like to sit back and nod my head and take in the millions of details for words for later poems. i don't like serious. i don't like it one on one baby, but i do it because I have to, and because no one really digs the cryptic jazz all the time. Theres the delight in the cryptic, the taking from one part and melding into the second and third and then you have a group of things that form a puzzle and the picture comes thru. but with us, I can't find all the pieces and i think some of them have been missing for a long time, probably swept up in a rush trying to clean all the messes up. and yes theres been alot of messes, baby. I clean up good. But on the inside its all barbwire and broken thistle flowers and red clay dirt and dust mites. Maybe we can build a fence around us instead of between. Maybe we can finally start this life again clean. i'll need a hammer and maybe some glue. i'll leave it up to you.