This is a little haibun called "Civilized perhaps".
"I have decided to OD on moderation for a while.
Just yesterday this decision occupied the forefront
of my brain in much the same way passion
is reputed to perform as the direct or flip side
of infection.
Otherwise, this rinse of thin green tea
would not be my chosen.
I have bracketed my lust to make a large deposit to my moderato
account.
Gems not worth enough comprise what one selects.
For the moment I am wide awake as springtime birds lusting
judiciously within the mythic tenor of appropriating minds
for reproduction.
Or is this just the longing?
Twins remediate our patchy single life with silver quest
until a beauty has been sleeping in this room.
All my limbs today are limber on account
of having little work of the digestive system to perform.
My heart lives in a fine community of offerings.
And when I make my bed, it is with happiness
that having dreamed acceptance dreams lasting a whole day's
drive to somewhere that has simulated closeness to whatever
I have been and will become.
Civilized perhaps and on the very
heels of having breaths sung into me by every person I
have loathed.
Conception, hastening the birth of the unknown."