Surreal Imagery







A little more off the top

You’re next
Until then
Just watch and wait

See how I take a little off the sides?
Ruffle the top
Make everything seem youthful and rebellious
Bet you can’t wait
To see what I can do for you

Once you’ve experienced this kind of hospitality
You simply can’t go back
Why bother with a magazine
When you can gaze upon the art of you looking like him?
My hands don’t shake
I maintain a heartfelt and robust conversation
Even the lighting is perfect

Just a little more off the top?
Sounds good
Watch and wait
Your time will come

via Daily Prompt: Hospitality

“You Look Lovely, Ms. Ebola”

Look past the facade of
A Groom’s Gown
Stained red and flowing white
You look lovely
You really do

But stay “over there”
Sure, it’s a vague term
You know what I mean though
It’s for the good of the citizenry

If you don’t believe me
Check the math yourself
It’s there for all to see
Etched on the Gown
We’ve both worn


The Sun Made a Promise

The sun reached its apex again

Radiating mischief

Giving one hell of an effort

Civilization deserved that last hoorah

A deep yellow disk conjuring fantasies


So why then did everything go dark?

It wasn’t death that brought resentment

Just the five stolen hours

That were spirited away


A magic number faded

Paving the way for a new life

Since first impressions mattered most



A Sun smothered lawn

Two arms

Two hands

One head

There nature was

Being very symmetrical


Symmetry was a force to be reckoned with

When one side dragged its heels

The other picked up the slack


That fine day was no exception

And in a blink all of the symmetrical things came together

As amorphous greens and blues

Despite the blurriness

Symmetry was still seething

Beneath it all



Time had fallen to the

Earth’s molten mantle

Hibernating but not dead yet


It was very confused though

Knocked upside its head

Pondering a broken compass


Everything seemed like archeology nowadays

Boring excursions into a past

Very similar to the present

And the compass stayed broken

Obscuring all facets of time

Making its three heads

Giddy artifacts waiting to be uncovered

A Land of Opportunity

Don’t mind him
He’s just a burden of the people
A hellhound bent on removing a pound of flesh
Alongside each transgression

Purgings are like spring flowers
Lovely but they haven’t reached full bloom
Those people once used by the all-seeing hand
Know not what is being done to them

But it hardly matters
As civil servants
Let their feet hit majestic roads
Emptying various bodies
Leaving them husks

Though, if you think about it
Husks can be revitalized for nearly any purpose
You can fear the efficiency of tarnished trumpets
They were used for one thing
Now for the other
Reflecting the sun even more brightly
Making majestic roads sing with confusion
Taking voices and amplifying them so that ears bleed
And causing brains to wonder about why ears are bleeding