The Observer – a surrealist collage poem

[Note: For anyone who may not be familiar with surrealist practice, this poem was constructed by cutting out random phrases from a magazine and then assembling them to create a sense of dislocation while also excavating an inner logic.]

The Observer

Oh, you are afraid of doing
a crime against most
gravity.

Crush the first suit
of armour; it needs the last
terrestrial explosives chamber.

The trick to enjoy
this language on skins is
a less-than-rational choice.

Eyes struggle
to bed a long piece of
sauteed window –
a look we like.

Fascinated by dysfunction, this is
the heart land, divided,
growing rapidly.

If you dig for pearl,
what’s the future?

I will try the real.

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