Sunday, May 31, 2009

surrealism has won the day--

ain't the joyous marxbros movie
we thought it'd be

(er winged octopus...can't have a surrealist poem
without a winged octopus in there...)

otherwise turds buzz flies
bill knott commits suicide yet again by lying in the street
and jumping off the curb into the sky

and a large sun glows brown as an arclamp
under yet another chariot of the gods
that thinks we're a pit stop
on the way to some black hole
eating another universe 8 trillion light years away

I fear I will go down in the cataclysm
one of many
instead of being on top of Mt Kathadin
watching assholes float by

boy not ready for transcendence am I?

(why is that odd bearded face staring down at me
though a tear in the clouds?)

this is what happens when I've nothing in particular in mind
and various  transmissions float through my brain

think I'll put a sign on my forehead saying
and leave me at this keyboard while I go elsewhere

for real--

                                Content (c) 2008-2009 Philip Milito

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