Reality vs. Surrealism

By
The furry black and white static of a broken t.v., un-
defined. Coloring miles outside the lines
questions and confusion choke me like smoke.
Will this boundary always be smudged-
a melting blur?
My eyes shut and conjured is a purple
whirlpool. Eyes
open, balmy film of light overtakes me
but the whirlpool will not fade or sub-
due even the slightest bit. Suddenly
I slip, the waves of quicksand envelope me. I
look for the horizon, that find dividing line.
Solid rock greets my feet. I
survive.





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poet critic said...
Oct. 23, 2008 at 1:49 am
WOW! great descriptions can really feel this keep writing
 
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