Sunday, March 18, 2012

haibun || Sheila E. Murphy

He wore seersucker a cappella with his doctorate wrapped
around a buckskin attitude. Affection hastens altitude when we
erupt into unlikely selves. He read a novel she read, then each
wrote (off) another. The lime green lapidary forethought
distanced altruistic waves of mercy wasted on the have-nots
who inhabited a patch where signs all read "soft shoulder."
Whose one shoe is this? She heard a quiet in his voice. He
offered a call back just when the mountains stood between the
alternating paths. A toggle corners what gets sorted. As a rule,
progenitors have normally been janitors whose offspring wane
just prior to these children of their own who conquer depth.
Perception of slow-moving vehicles defines life forms requiring
large resuscitation. Poached egg beings lulled from one mall
to the next. Malignancy repairs to open space to tweet shallow
opinions passed off as contemporary passion trailing through
a breathing apparatus.
Mantra without wind, as moments come in waves, unknown
Sheila E. Murphy

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