THE EMPTY CAGE

  I missed
 the book of my life
 one night
 when they forgot
 to put a sharp pencil
 next to my bed.
   -Lise Deharme
         1933
	 

She Called Herself Sally



Suddenly something tried to reshape Inegio's head.

the shadows of a a fairy boot
curled eight brass rings of red gold
into the ear of
the spiral
and made it's way to the unconvincing grin in a determination promenade.

The purple and yellow diamonds waltzed in
to display at 17 degree angles
and the rails
felt for the train's wheels
because the spokes mattered least

Little workshops hid us in their curtains and tried to distract

  the elders from the cactus memories

Never entering the room again
and again would not cease to bear down
on the urge to laugh all at once
in the wailing of the silences

Burning the campfire plaid
felt like an old rubber
friend in quaking
rotten jars
Until the final serpent crawled backwards
like a reversed sonic film

the tune could not follow
or
ear copy it's melody
or
it's jeer.
  -Richard Dotson




The green sky
Grasps
the watcher of the wind
while nothing
streams by

refreshing memories
of rust colored grass
a melting sun
Flash
like five cobweb fires
and a liquid eye

the watcher of the wind lets go
a memory
and the green sky
   -Derek Scefonas



'Dress for War'  by Derek Scefonas

let go of the sun
and kill the lights
no ones coming here to die
life beats down upon the ruin

strong, the demon seals this bit
of silence
locked in a place
where we dress for war
in the swing rain


CANDLE
 The owl hid his eyes
  under his hands
 He hid his hands
  under his feet
 He hid his feet
  behind his ears
 He hid his ears
  between his toes
 He tucked his toes
  under his belt
 And completely disappeared



c.

    -Penelope Rosemont
	 

 "Sometimes I tip over."

               -Andrew Torch



'A Catalog of Desirables'  by Arthur David Spota



that throne of night
that river of sinuous stars
that opening in the twilight that has never let me sleep
that nest that flew off the wing that's flown the coop
that space inside space
that last breath and not a priest in sight
that night that cooed like beasts
that desired thought without semblance or symmetry
that falling boy that often dreams
  and I am not in one of them
that statue that one day had brushed against me
  seems to have vanished, gone around the world
that will to disappear that has always lived
  in the darkness of human presence
that secret awareness of everything that is displayed
  where the heart suffers what the eye can't heal
that terrible sound reduced to the smallest of men
until it is no longer heard
that flam that a moment ago was imperceptible
that has taken the house to ruins
that talk of the cinders that is a miracle over silence
that traveling trollop asking directions of those
ridiculous children is a prison of sky in their loins
that an hour ago I shared my love with some
  haunted passerby without having chosen the time and place
that a year ago,  on a moments notice,  my  train  departed
  and left a black cloak of smoke around the stations
  of my heart
that  a  lifetime  ago I drew myself down winding paths
that were not complete only to arrive at this day,
         this  hour.
c.


*International Surrealist Statement (Oct. 31, 2009)

HERE





Statement by International Surrealists regarding the U.S. torture of prisoners:
 HERE