La Phoque Je Ne Sais Quoi Baguette Rene Magritte
Semi-Surreal Nouveau Imagist Poem
by Jean Pierre Quasimofoeu
“If the dream is a translation of waking life,
waking life is also a translation of the dream.”
He read his newspaper
next to the quadrangle
spectre of technology.
now he’s gone
and the journal speaks
Nipple eyes peachyÂ keen bloom above a navel nose and pubescent mouth. Rape my ordinary mundane taking the point in combed wineglass bedroom of wallpapered sky. a subconscious personaÂ fends off gropey shadow molesters pitty-pat amber alert. Titans of stone…we are what we use in violet whoring hues… The biggest unripe green ever to explode the typical. Listen. My shoes are my feet .. planks and dirt are our hard line.+ tigress wood knots modele rouge roughing up the canvas’ late-term abortion.
mirror image of broken reality
busts mountains’ wild fabric.
In the evening, she turns bleu
with mists and pinballs splitting
representations of the diabolically
Leave a leaf or pigeon spitoon.
Flip flop a mermaid and salmon beached like a chance determined acceptance. Green appled bowler-hatted peon with just an inkling’s eyebat’s glance…it is as it is innatureasitisoneasel. My lonely castle levitates above the crashing sea and i dream
of cubby-hole icons commuting other worldly libidoes.
A reckless sillouette makes
a reasoning pirouette..
A window or a n i n si d e o u t ..
bath suns divinely pose
with cannonball and bosom…
grown of a private groan.
un ex pec t the inter mit t ent
antÂ e lope..2 on a narrow
pledgeling ‘not a pipe’ stroll.
walk over to petrified normalcy where color has been sucked by an all grey greatness. Take a souvenir from carrot missile liqueurÂ elixir blasting still-life sexplanation into blank sheet covered heads of lovers feeling the heat of breath as heaving armadas of golden baguettes mate-by-number.. In the drop of a secret gumball i’d read ‘The Adventures of Pym’ hedging bets with the dopplegang who brands members with bowl cuts and unseen (yet requisite) sniggers.
Atomic Apple Apollonian
plunging into the barrier
between drab and detail
chasing it’s tail.
Send me a post card
of the therapeutist
with knapsack full
of caged birdy central
The forecast calls for 100% chance of precipitation raining suited herd ideologists over much of Belgium today. Peace flew across his visage while eagles morphed into tourist scene quality outcrops watching the moon eggs situate. i wrestle with roses swapping tombs for hourglass contortions. Falsify these reflections of the shattered villa pupils. is it a domain that one may frame like a picture of a picture of a sky aside an actual..?
which is more?
open the mine
to see the mind
behind doll house ruins
with gaping girlie-actrics…
there is an assassin
on the other side
of a victrola
and a clobberer
for the red lounge lady
atop a nosebleed
…whatÂ are the 3 things we keep as novelty and the pursuit of gadget and freckled luminosity? She is pregnant with an inscrutable self; But the empire is ready-made for a looksie… Chuga chuga choo choo at a quarter till one–our lunch break’s done…
..orÂ has timeÂ become transfixed?