Friday, February 25, 2011

haibun || Sheila E. Murphy

Norm, Al

Relax your brackets, boys and girls, we're going to practice care, as if the right side of the brainscape happened (to be betrothed unwittingly). And samples of our nest broached topics left askance in their entirety. Normative reliance upon surfaces leaves home (hoped) at just about the time we north-en notices because because because there is no tincture, no excuse, no abracadabra in our horticult-. I'm warning you: this is a pax play. This is porridge craft. This is circum-naviganza at its quickest. Maybe you can brine away at ship-side so we get somewhere. Maybe (oceans will conform to lone range subsidy. I think larga distancia is horse sense. Just bill me for good will. Then brainwash anyone with chops, and we'll proceed to next perfunct-. At this rate, scales we thought would fall will have been already felled after soprano washings. Anyone's religious inclinations will have seemed as fraught with sleigh lines as the next snow light. Watch beneath the street lamp where the road divides and guess the compass point from inside sleep. I'm forming your equestrian emotion: blaspheme prayer. It's time to place your bets at plural borders. Play board games. Play bored. Play through. The lax and perpendicular entonces has been made your own trump carte blanche. By no means does this guarantee quick kismet. It means choke on swallowed rivers. Answer for your past. Think the children who will live out your acts in alpha moments leaking old momentum. Nothing you have failed to fashion can outpace what you have made of givens.

Being, knowing, valuing, a trade off of the numbness

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