ANDRE BRETON is VERY DEAD BUT NOT SURREALISMA Poem by E.P. RoblesTHE PRECIOUS terror is realizing most adults are dead children or like a day that folds itself into a basket of reborn night. That long-necked geese and stiff necks are either pretending giraffes or self consumed souls; ignoring the mirror reflecting thoughts, introspection devours its own mouth. Surrealism is hickey upon my heart that bests freezer burn sunlight any now. Kiss me you brilliant stupid fool.
© 2023 E.P. Robles |
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E.P. RoblesSAN ANTONIO, TXAboutI write a lot and I paint a lot. I think just enough that I believe I am a very crazy person at all times. I am very friendly to a fault and find life very very short. I write in bursts with each p.. more..Writing
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