surrealism

Melting Man

Melting Man has the night terrors Malignant faces Pointing fingers Nodding to each other with icicle noses long hands and obscene gestures ~Man of the Melt~ Cover yourself! Fold ye down into the foam where mildewed spirits cannot roam Call ye spiders and millipedes home!

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We come from the sun

We come from the Sun,they say to me,from the wrong side of my ear.But why?Why for?I mumble in cotton.For answer,they show their hands,oven-mittened.See. See our thumbs.They are wide.Splayed and strong.We will gentle you,raise you from the gorge. Life is but a dream.

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A theory of nonsense

Is there a ForeverWho can scope the great mindA yolk in an eggThen what is beyond the eggMonkeys and typewritersad infinitumThink your deep thoughtsand they surely will write ‘emStories of ourswill be amber-ingrainedand lain among flowersall freshened with rain

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A pause for thought

The slant of the sun. The moss-green mechanic with his fat cigar, chuffing like a chimney. The little kid threesome on the gravel shoulder, fist-pumping the diesel driver. and the undetected grasshopper atop my dusty boot. How slowly I move. I’ve never been here, but I know it.

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time, out of mind

Skull and muscle Searching eye Operate these bones Live in the godly force of spin Walk, to a purpose All held together by might Night is certain Bright day is not granted One watches the great story.

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