Week 32-22 - Haibuno

8 August 2022

Mountains bathed in clouds
sonorous thunder echoes
can't hide forever

Riding an arc overnight. Arriving at a destination unannounced. Sunflowers dance, bunnies hop, lizards scurry, one man coughs. We are not quite past the 'is he contagious' phase. As things get more extreme, we are all at greater risk of everything, anywhere, when everything is a risk. It's mind-numbing. Doom, gloom, apocalypse! Should we exist under these circumstances of ignore, destroyed, done? Who moved my cheese? Change!

9 August 2022

Pulling tumbleweed
vigorous multiplying
scourge of monsoon rain

There is a ring of feathered seeds out back that we've never noticed before. There's a toxic plant growing next to the amaranth i'm tending. The mice are roaming and the boom booms boom daily. A slow steady trickle turns into a deluge. Wind then sudden stillness then wind. The system keeps turning, and raindrops fall percussively on continuously expanding sunflower leaves. 90% turns to 50% turns to 100%. The now nearer than ever before. A slow descent follows.

10 August 2022

Shambolic futures
i'm stuck in-between places
dreaming of beyond

Welcome to the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon, otherwise known as the frequency illusion. It's chaotic and disorderly, and predictably followed by confirmation bias. I see you seeing it seeking the ghosts of ordinary.

11 August 2022

Drive to ski valley
for pizza and couple beers
stymied not enough

I'll stare at your rainbow eyes, no surprise, intent and unwavering. The heads bow back and forth surrending to the intensity of light. Echoes flash. They permit slow squeaky dancing. Where are the perfect stories hidden? Flash, 6 seconds, crack, 6 miles. Where do secrets swallow the intruders who are covered in mud and unyielding? They had the ability to turn back time, it was a crime to do it, so they never did.

12 August 2022

Wishing comeuppance
espionage traitor trash
flying monkeys flail

There are dreams that emerge when the full moon rises. They slowly unravel at the edges and start whispering their stories. They tell us tall tales, true crime stories, and everyday horrors and happies. The shadow mans' ponytail rises into the stratosphere whipping up the latest headlines. His arm reaches down and plucks up the moon methodically. Each inch an eternity of anonymous atrocities and blessings falling like water off a broken gutter. He shows neither enthusiasm nor annoyance, neither ambivalence nor exuberance. He on his stoic cloud just is.

13 August 2022

Sealing hammockville
painting and climbing ladders
legs cramp up fatigue

Perfect is as perfect never because there is no perfection does (.).

14 August 2022

Powerful shit storm
arrives overnight silent
paniced look on face

The ideas come clustered and switched to oblivion. There are some who are naturally melancholy. Others who simply smile and nod. And still others who light the room on fire.  One never outshines another. They dance around each other with tight smiles, willing the other to misery or wild abandon. You never know which until the moment you can see tendrils of self-doubt creeping or retreating. You never know which until the moment the word catches you by surprise or is utterly expected. You never know when you'll never know. That is the wonder of switched and clustered.

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Jamie Larson