It Wasn't Surreal

“Surrealism: Pure psychic automatism, by means of which it is proposed to express, be it through writing, verbally or in any other way, the real functioning of thought; of the dictation of thought in the absence of all control exercised by reason and outside all moral or aesthetic concerns.” –André Breton, The Surrealist Manifesto, 1924

What the fuck are we doing with adjectives?

Superlatives, especially, are sent

Rolling in all directions like olives

Spilled, and on making mindless mischief, bent

Awe is an alloy of wonder and fear

Given that definition, what’s awesome?

A latte? New headphones? Sweet camping gear?

Did real awe surge through you when you bought them?

Surreal is the default descriptor, now

When something strange or marvelous happens

But harken to Breton and ask yourself how

Surreal that taco was, though misshapen?

Cherish the shining, exceptional words

Do not let them fly, like idiot birds