Week 9-23 - Haibuno

27 February 2023

Get pic on mountain
hear story later at home
“he ran and peeled out”

There is hope in deep burial. She keeps reminding me, “no one is creeping”. She shows me a relevant cartoon, and it becomes our personal running joke. We watch 50% go dark after the weekend. They will descend like locusts and buy all the food while Bolocore hovers around the edges, playing banjo. Rumbling.

28 February 2023

Staking out next phase
staking out space for new pace
third winter is here

You could see the cloudy river flowing by as angry. Smudged and puffy. Every day the stream carries a silent message to the east directly from the west. Warmth and moisture. Some have grown weary of the steady, and have surrendered to the onslaught. Spacier and aloof. Others dig out their paddles, and ready their canoes. Critters dig ferociously to reach the surface to say hello, and watch the misty missives fly by. The locusts click clack, stop at the corner, chit chat, then move along. There is a collective weary in wishing for moments of capricious cloudiness is palpable.

1 March 2023

Storm swirls, anticipation
Shuddersome rapture

Mesa or plateau. Plateau. There is no argument here. Mesa. It always has been, it will be, there you go.

2 March 2023

Matching paint colors
unreal neon sunset glow
chroma bath delight

The bump rises. It itches. It hurts. It disappears. The gray descends like a looming specter. Everything goes one shade darker. Slicker. Slimier. The birds have returned to welcome back the spring, but the winter is loathe to listen to their chirping. It wails and throws tantrums, spits and cockles, raises its fists in a definitive NO. A genuine mood has descended. Even the locusts scurry and wear fur around their ankles to hide their slavery to the rhythm of oscillation. No crouching, no hiding, there is change afoot, and no one can deny it.

3 March 2023

At this present time
“I is sufficiently built”
cannot dissuade me

She speaks with high confidence straight into the screen. No hesitation. Wise with experience and nothing to lose. She will be mythologized, revered in science fiction. In meatspace, she will be called “an angry woman”. Which isn’t as much a slur as it seems. Women are angry. The owls fly away, one bright flash of love is enough.

4 March 2023

‘We’re closed, out to lunch.’
‘Can’t send, the system is down.’
went back on Monday

Will we ever reach the peak of cocked up? I’m tired to trying to get things done, and remaining in limbo indefinitely with no return phone calls. I feel like I keep whinging on this point. I am the ouroboros, pushing the stone through my intestines forever and ever and ever…

5 March 2023

Growing glowing cloud
dodging, cavorting, record
love and fate entwined

Would you paddle a rubber raft on a lake of concentrated sulfuric acid? No? Then you might not know what love is… Or maybe you do?

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Jamie Larson