The Surrealists’
wakefulness and sleep,
dredge up
the murky subconscious
the page or canvas.
sleepwalking
awash in
surfing The vast amount
silently in a room with nothing
a collective dreamspace
and John Cage.
Nothing is off limits
never before the past decade
My emotions?
My history?
My biases and passions?
can’t help but express
more than a generation, but
our dislikes,
our emotions,
our politics,
my frustration with reading endless
Finnegans Wake, in essence
long-form blogging
in the margins
still sounds shocking to many
in front of their screens
Yet our lives
need to drift
Surely we’re more complex than
bureaucracies that suck the life from you
