find me in the garden
of lemon-drop kisses and
candy hearts

where Nazis smirk and steal
the scales of Lady Justice
as winged monkeys draw their bows and
aim for peg-legged Oompa Loompas

where Father Time makes love
to Mother Nature
on a bed of women’s rights and
men’s deepest doubt

while popcorn sunsets
burst into White Russians and
melt into the caramel seas

and love is love is love
until it isn’t

I wonder
at this surreality
would you could you
lose hope with me

The poetry on this blog and Write Bitches are works of fiction, erupting from my incredibly over-active imagination. This piece is inspired by our new (sur)reality in this post-Obama world of despotic white men, Russia, and the shredding of women’s rights. I feel like it ends with a whimsical desire to get lost in a lover and forget it all for a second and that makes me smile. It’s slightly edited, totally unscripted, spontaneous, super loose, and part of a collection of some of my favorite work. These pieces are perfect in their imperfections and I hope you enjoy.

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5 thoughts on “Surreality

    • Thanks Barbara – this one was especially out there. It’s a product of everything going on with this new administration of evil-doers: it’s happening so fast and everything feels like madness. This sprung from all of that. Glad you enjoyed. Be good. xx

  1. wonderful, my friend—i think you should go “surreal” more often in your poetry—it goes deep, calling up feelings from the dream world, the deep under, and pushes way out of our usual guarded social conventional ways……great great poem….one of your best….but, oh so different than what i usually expect (and you know i’m a fan!!!)

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