Skip to main content

Shaman at the Laundromat

The exhaustive moment provides wobbly things. Blue skies were noted at certain times, with a green aura from trees of considerable standing. When it comes to detergent, any powder or thick liquid will do. The shaman grows tired with effort and embracing.

Earlier would be a shrub, proud in its distinct gravity of barrier or landscape placement. Eager as can be, with radiant sun effect causing photosynthetic response, shrub grows almost tall. Shaman can foretell rooftops, extreme clouds, and cleaning the lint filter. The shrub describes there.

Soap remains grand, with disparate smells. Socks ever test the journey. Plaid will surprise you.

Epileptic shaman rolls on Laundromat floor, howls for sky with diamonds. Like that, the sock of the moment transfigures. And we are serious

going to lengths about the middle of the road. Too many pieces of the puzzle fell to the floor. Rendered as exasperation then made into resolve, so the puzzle creates a dynamic time which becomes constancy for moments at a time.

Still, when the washer stops dramatically, the shaman’s perch always shakes. Moderate and careless drier continues to hum. Perception is in the eye of the percept, or when will likely stories remain the same?

Shaman with well-folded and springtime freshness.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A List of Words

It begins with a scanning of light, a settlement of words. The lightly fracture of Bird sound begins in the office of seeing. Not sentiment but sense, as cool as Green in the Early days. Pasture resists nonpasture, no one Refers to none. All remains including nothing. Morning Is belief and there simply there. Tides go freshly to the point.

The Left of Intention

Blistered arrangement in Obama's plant. That plant is excised with cultured cells looking for the sun. Obama brands name in this stampede, and we leak alert. A new orange smokes upon the evening landscape, parlance for yesterday, then blue over the gushing land today. Stay happy with Obama, or paralax, or the motion across the kitchen floor, of something. Something secret leaves the hives. Something secret seeks the plant. The plant is poised like anything. Tussle continues, with new verbs vectoring the continuation. Obama bravely last the night, sweatshop slogan. Our President, haply, but effort contorts all known regions of meaning. The South, for instance, the West, the North and its East, and so on, dilations. There was a lake above. A blue and now it is shining morning lake. It was above, like the cat, or even more, when we are attuned. Obama battles with all words, Even as the proposition institutes some collision hardly to be compelled. All this exceeds ramifications. Our Pr...

The Citizen Would Leave

  Across lean tar pits of localised conveyance, news from sadly nowhere and other quackery. The entire rich crunch vibrates to the center, where stopping begins. Look where the adjectives go. The people as multiplied assumption and ducking away show causation by tumbleweed drift. Moral code exists as prosecution, pronounced as caring. Nuclear rocks decompose, discompose. Stictures from the one god populates the beaten numbers between us. We can all die with advantage to hear the startling judgment. The bonfire of Babylon made happiness exist. We cannot squeeze more love from this rock. Donald’s day has spoken, mellifluous tar.