Crushed Butter Rock

He liked to think his life enormous in the scheme of things. Unglued, construed, and multi-menacing with stance intact. A cracked denominator strips the figuring of range and fun. Crushed butter rock to spread across the wealth. A weathervane beside the shack. Tactile tools to use to factor in the innocence frayed though staid in mental fact. Delineate degrees of freedom made for the mensch we nimbly love.  A breeze rock, a clock in bloom. Why not domesticate fervor that one might ford the tenor river smoothed across the glide? Sandstone purview tenses hobbly stock. Uber-able distance creased in mind seeking safety in a narrow blind. 

Contractions choiced from speech, that he may know our love and weeds

 

,

Sheila E Murphy
Art: Rupert Loydell

 

 

 

.

 


This entry was posted on in homepage and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.