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Book of surrealist poetry
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Immediately struck by the fact, he approached the heat of the sunhis identity, an heterogeneous mixture of all the ordinary things surrounding everything that lives and grows;sparrow skins and bonding white-cloudshis very blood and bones.Little heat was feltthree degrees of greenest nothingsometimes just evaporating with each rotation of the world.
A simple observa tion in contempo rary life.
Everything from knife handles to imitation grains of jumbled peaks
present people with a breathtaking fact
richer than the lungs of nunataks and more misunderstood than
the uphill flow of vertical heights.
‘Perpetual existence is the brim of a cup.’
An accidental continuous
movement.
The well dressed matron stared,“In everything that lives, from substantial advances, to raw meat,why is there no way of restoring the unpredictable, into the significant?”The tall dignified man to her left lowered his newspaper.“Life is not completely understood.” He said.An arrangement of beautifully awkward moleculesbut no one ever bothered to give them names.
An enormous baffling subject on the basic particles of reason.
Segments pull away and fluctuate steadily.
The rounded sections shrink slowlywith deeper transition
becoming three miles of melting light.The glacial staircase moves like
the calculated bodydetermined by the means of
electric rivers and patterned panels passing through
uninhabitable windowsinto unharmed climates.
Windows without glass.
“Upon consideration” she said thoughtfully “I can see a primary colour that is nothing but itself, dripping with water and sharp repeating patterns.”A source of crystals for the fine summers of aesthetic wilderness.One by one, I can see that I might find areas of our sprawling elementsin the clear air of carbon flowered meadows.The rigorous beauty and freshnesscomprises of molecular weight -A modern bathroom with an horizon, will inspire us with occasional escape.
Methyl Methacrylate tongues.
An alpine spectacle - green-ribboned.
These floating dams and marble-like statues
hold the resemblance of tomorrowlogically
the colour of prosperity hides in shells of woven rivers
behind high walls and traditions.
Perfectly white-enameled.
The breakdown of snowflakestranslates a thousand things he touches.These tiny star-shaped tunnels evaporate into fluffy massesan ever-increasing world of delicate filament. The train was pulling into the transforming of particles above them,changing the inexpensive hours of the horizon."Thank you." Said the woman.
The process of melt ing away gradually.
Whatever the exact heightthe mystery of living substance
is about the size of upside-down places
unborn in the spaces between concepts and locations.
Surrounding measurements
of the afternoon.
A bust of sunlight pierces the oceanthe pulse runs down the remnants of old mountainslike the patience of a man who has suffered the majesty of eternal peaks finallyit is worn downa marvelous act of burning silkdisappears into the earth.
Three forms of matter.
Twists around the spur with abrupt emerald advances
he is entombed in indulging resinhis boots are probably plasticonce paraded like balloons.Raising the sunken settings of
unknown valleyshe chances the inhuman slope with
seven translucent shades of lingering snow.
He may well cut a path through the deepest waters.
Meanwhilein midsummer
a girl records the wonderful colours of nowhere.
And artificial beds.