Easy as Falling Down Stairs

To always be in motion there is no choice even for the mountain and its frigid cousins floating on the oceans that even sluggish seethe and moan and laugh out loud at their own jokes. How "like the human heart" can be said of pert near everything, pint of fizz, punching bag because all moves: the mouse, the house, the pelt of moon corresponding to the seas (see above) (now get back here) of mood, sadness heaving kelp at the sunken city's face, gladness somersaulting from the eaves like a kid's drawing of a snowflake. No matter how stalled I seem, some crank in me tightens the whirly-spring each time I see your face so thank you for aiming it my way, all this flashing like polished brass, lightning, powder, step on the gas, whoosh we're halfway through our lives, fishmarkets flying by, Connecticut, glut then scarcity, hurried haircuts, smell of pencils sharpened, striving, falling short, surviving because we ducked or somehow got some shut-eye even though inside the hotel wall loud leaks. I love to watch the youthful flush drub your cheeks in your galloping dream. Maybe even death will be replenishment. Who knows? Who has the time, let's go, the unknown's display of emeralds closes in an hour, the fireworks' formula has changed, will we ever see that tangerine blue again, factory boarded up then turned into bowling lanes.