Mistakes make catchy riffs

takes shake the tree of doubt. bait the hour with now. ache is body song. notate the talk of clouds. take longer strides. equate? yes, try to. mistakes make catchy riffs. fate won't hear you shout. spake once then listened thrice. create on steady decks. slake sound like it feels. weight of wonder? quake is best left for gods. exclamate! exclamate! the bigger book in the bigger book I bend the truth 'til it forms a circle. in the bigger book I write with singular purpose, like a snail crossing lawn at night, I write in think, like balloons released in sunlight, I write like skywriting. in the bigger book I write and swim and wrim and swite and rhyme. the bigger book, picture or word? call them hieroglyphics, a blurring of etch, brush and sense. by the final pages in the bigger book I'm crooning through cadences and denouement in the mode of be. the bigger book, a hard-back, sits presigned and ripe, always in new releases. in the font of cumulus this bigger book on a Sat. we played out dreams. we stole flames. we boiled snails. we strafed ants' nests. we singed our hair. we got called in. we got told off. we scrubbed our nails. we had roast. we ate our veg. we sang and jigged and spun. we got tucked in. we got told tales. we felt hot breath. we heard our prayers. we shared the dark. we shed fear. we dreamt of play