I Just Get My Religion from People
She hooks one long red fingernail
and her left ear disappears.
She points the nail tip to her thumb
and the table rises into the air.
She wrinkles her nose and the table
comes down but the lights go out.
When they come on,
she’s gone but her shoes are still
under the table,
one toe pointed backward––
one heel broken.
Music shows in the air,
hung there by its black tails.
I open a window, blow
jazz to the corners of the room.
I open the door and her shoes walk
out on the wrong side of each other.
“How’s she doing today?” asks the doorman
on my way out.
“We’re getting her act together,” I say.
Catch up to her shoes at the
taxi stand at the corner,
hail them a cab.
For the dVerse Poets Surreal Poetry prompt.
verseVV
Really, really like this one. It resonates.
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Thanks, Dale…you surreal gal, you.
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Good One!
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That’s definitely surreal — a little creepy!
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kaykuala
Retains one in a magical dream extending magical episodes every so often even not allowing one to catch our breath before the next one appears. Beautifully surreal Judy, Ma’am!
Hank
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Pleased to please, Hank.
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You snagged surreal by the short hairs; keeping your focus and our attention throughout he macabre meanderings; loved this.
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Thanks, Glenn.
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Did you watch the hearing today? It can make you crazy.
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Now and then. I can’t stand to watch the whole thing. And really can’t stand to read his tweets. Soooooo crazy and adolescent.
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Nice line: ““We’re getting her act together,” I say.”
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Brilliant!
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Surrealism achieved!
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Phew. What a relief. Hated to flunk surreal! ;o)
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lol
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I could be wrong, but I’d say this is surreal 🙂
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;o)
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In this poem I feel like I don’t really know who is the most confused, and I know exactly the painting I thought about for this poem.
The red model by Magritte
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