Gloomy

by Andrew Arnett about a year ago in surreal poetry

Sky and City

Gloomy

Gloomy parachutes descend

upon

the wasteland

again.

the sky is a damp

gel

crying.

the clock has gone past

midnight and

that means there is hope

maybe.

there is laughter coming from

the land of Buddhas

smiling and the night

is filled with stars

dancing.

there is the dance of the

folded envelope in the

courtyard

and the caterpillars are

no strangers to love.

I like to hear the vacuum packed

seals barking on the shores of

the void.

there is a precipice on

either side

of us

with little time

for crooning.

upside down pyramids spin

a tale

with no end

in sight.

surreal poetry
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Andrew Arnett

Freelance writer living in Brooklyn, NY.

See all posts by Andrew Arnett