|
By B.K. Date: 2013 Jul 23 Comment on this Work [[2013.07.23.07.03.5675]] |
|
Lately my dreams have been Like surrealistic paintings A man in a suit Jumping out of his mouth A smaller suited version of himself A fish jumping out of the little man’s mouth All diving into a pool Where a woman in a whirlpool Is Drowning As another woman just like her Holding her hands to her face Looks down on the entire scene I get up and ponder the colors And what I shall call the painting And the painter of such a scene Did I see it in a gallery I shall cry if you tell me someone Already painted it before me Then I wonder what Jung would have said Fuck Freud And I look out the window The rabbits are doing it in the road Thumping and bumping There are two rabbits on every lawn All doing it in unison to that Beatles song I’m telling you my mind is scribbling Like that time I once took chocolate mescaline I wonder where all the coyotes are Then I remember you I saw you this morning In a vaporous form asleep in your bed I must have been visiting Time traveling between dream outtakes of My latest grouping of strange foods You were squiggles on a surrealistic slab Laying there and I was a squiggle vapor I reached for you and the sparks From the volcanic orgasmic ocean tsunami Made me jump right out of my sleep What a wild wallop of whipped cream dream I’m telling you I need to be a painter instead of a poet I’ll look at paint brushes today You can be my muse Think of all the shades Of macho pink I can put you in You will love it ©bk July 22,2013 |