the surreal is incurable–it might open

where i feel temporary

Every noun a neuron. Every adverb an adversary. Every metaphor a metaphysical reaction. It’s not poetic to admit but brain chemistry plays a bigger role in Art than many are willing to embrace.

It ranges regular, splintered and snapped out of hell,

like an hour’s ease glancing explosions away gently

The janitor swept and mopped.

Aztec prayer said at deathbeds: “You have passed through the labors of life, / And now the gods knock at your door. But do not fear. Lying there beside / the specter of death, a child waits to be born.