Saturday, May 12, 2018

Surreal Poetry - Punk, Porn and Palm Trees

Punk, Porn and Palm Trees

 Listen punk get up, up, up to the top of your palm tree to watch that x-rated porn
"This is not a Bob Marley song" shouted Mr Flawless from the inside of his empty cup of a flat white coffee
The brown mustache sealed his lips like an unmistakable big brown nothing as the angry ants with broken glass wings hula hooped around each other in tiny tutus each carrying blurred images from their lonely childhood
Feral horses escaped from the power of the bluff as they bolted over my 5 legs which varied in shades of lilac
"Watch your re-runs and make do" said the man in the three piece florescent suit
 "I need sunglasses to look at you" I said
The man dissipated a cash machine before passing me his binoculars that were made from two empty tins of beans stuck to a pair of jam jar glasses
A cumbersome yellow pill brought about silence that was broken by softly spoken mumblings of a Gregorian chant
You have strayed from the intelligent confines of your surroundings and wandered into the bottom of the barrel scraping any crassness you can for notoriety with a banner saying "Hi Mum"  
Can you please tick all the boxes before entering the building otherwise you will not be accepted by the cackling jury who sway from side to side in their moth bitten angel outfits from a pantomime which was held at Dewsbury Town Hall in 1987
The announcement tells you how to feel good from your washing machine you had to get a bank loan out for
Drip, drip, drip, drip please slowly feed the leeches from your bogus gravy jug 

My next door neighbour likes to make the sound of a buzzing bee as she hangs her pink shrimps out to dry as the citrus smell fills the crisp air
Aunt Joan has a secret stash of dolls eyes that she has collected from discarded eagle eye action men

"They bring me good luck" she says if she wears them loosely around her neck in a small sack made of crushed golden velvet
A large ice cream on air balloon wheels holds up an ominous grey tannoy warnings us to stay inside our homes and do the Harlem Shuffle
The glop is in reverse and these things have all yet to happen

by Sam Freek

For more surreal poetry click away over here ---------------------------------- surreal poetry


Author: Sam Freek

No comments:

Post a Comment