A poem of reflection and dreams.


In dreams I live in tainted memories,

In apparitions of my former reality

But with even more tonal inconsistencies in

A skewed representation of my past self in an

Alienating non-linear format that

Pushes me into inescapable delirium where I

Exist as a bystander to absurd plots and

Recurring characters that have long since

Departed from the real-life narrative that feels

Unobtainable in this confounding dreamscape that

Reminds myself of when I often opted to

Pursue grand acts of hubris, and in crimson halls

Innovative takes on recent mistakes premiere to the

One viewer who can’t ever look away

From this special feature, and who must endure each bizarre

Yet melancholic act in whichever

Order they choose to appear in

Whilst already knowing the bewildering denouement

That arrives in typical anti-climactic fashion while I’m

On the precipice of waking to be

Rid of this routine while world stands alight


surreal poetry
Matthew Trundle
Matthew Trundle
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Matthew Trundle

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