Tuesday, June 28, 2011

haibun || Sheila E. Murphy

Con Brio

Conceptual experience instills orgiastic tremolo no matter what.
The emblem of a blouse, some flagpole evidence, an inadvertent weather.
Who says blossoms lead a full life? All of the arithmetic functions are
performed, not necessarily pro forma. A story brings its tantrum to
these premises, and we decide, both consciously and its inverse,
to be affected. Our economy does not deserve the plural possessive
pronoun. The latitude someone provides is less intriguing than
the reason for release. Timetables need to be let go. Skin breathes,
ideas are revamped by creed and craving. Will you run away (or for)?
Who's to say the pockets will continue to be deep? Alliances mean
pretty parked ensembles of the witty charm. Alignment seems reduction
of the same old music stands. The rests within which one has dwelt
and can't recall. The divots and the divans and the near-miss of
a projected harmony.

Staccato quirks, the near miss of in(ter)vention, silos lying in the field

Sheila E. Murphy

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