surreal poetry
Surrealist poetry embodies the essence of poetry itself, drawing upon shocking imagery and lyrical incongruities to comment on the inner-workings of the mind.
Say...
I’m out. The common novel has shrunk to the novella to the novelette, and here I am, like the meth has left me next to a dumpster; this is a free-form death wish on the danger of the demon, hyperbole as I let loose on a soapbox upon a dead corner. A march, under starched for good, in the ether, and it’s getting a little cozy. Post-PUNK, Air-walking the gap-to-sloper, wall planter through the wall that turns out was formally promised declaration of a hay-day. “A dab will do, Love.” I'm not (eye roll) that special. Minx of Tartars, hear me! “…you cut out there, but I have you now. Flipping, flopping on whether I use this to prove a point to Thee INSIDE or take the dare like a child, pretending I’m only stumbling on the refresh button for the third time looking for that dreaded front button. “You meant back, right?” To say it plainly, Dane sees the biblical heaven fees, not worth the new fucking app, but if the gates of Six Flags can’t stop me…
By Willem Indigoabout a month ago in Poets
