Hello symbolism!
By Brooklands
Poems from Bangladesh and India.
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- 2232 reads
Sorry I make you lush
I am lush, this morning, someone must have had a dream with loofers hanging from trees and a painting of me and a hologram of me and a woodcock with my face. The heel of my foot is pistachio-green;
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- 2241 reads
A disastrous campaign in bohemia
We took off our shirts and played hacky sack on their fundamental lawns,
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- 1124 reads
Advice for balloons
Rise above the Roman Catholic Cathedral and push off towards the balconys of the waffle-stack estate.
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- 1542 reads
Advice for balloons #2
No need to fear the bats; they see in sound. Teach them mathematics with your expository shape.
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- 1254 reads
Advice for balloons #3
Hang around outside the YMCA until a boy with a static haircut takes you by the string.
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- 1460 reads
Choconana sandwiches at Southwold
Poor horizon, that's not a seagull. That's a kite in the shape of a seagull.
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- 1275 reads
This Is Crispin
This poem is a univocalism, which means it only uses one vowel throughout. In this case 'i'. This is one of the forms employed by those wacky chaps at Oulipo, ouvrir de literature potentiale.
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- 1820 reads
We do our own stunts
I invent a back story as you dry your hair: the full-tongue snog that took four takes, your swollen lips and Linda from costume said that we should “try acting.”
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- 1142 reads
Future Dating
Karen pulls up opposite, chopsticks clicking as though making a scarf from her udon noodles; our three minutes pass in excruciating knit one purl one chit chat.
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- 1230 reads
The Salon At The Pinnacle Of Man
Relax. You will recognise him by his haircut. The razor slipped and there was a sound like the door of a tomb sliding back. Most great discoveries are accidents.
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- 1231 reads
The New Honesty
We brought back sincerity in the light of a joke about giant inflatable minorities having televised battles:
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- 1020 reads
Hawaii
El Nino’s monopoly on imagination had them name it: Big Wednesday. Cars picked up and parked again. No more beach furniture. A midweek mountain range. Birds snatched from the sky.
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- 906 reads
Test
A prose poem. I like to imagine my girlfriend alone, ordering ravioli in the café where they know her name but mispronounce it.
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- 939 reads
Distances in distances
I had boring dreams the night before we met. Seagulls were stunt kites shaped like seagulls. Meanwhile, outside the dream: the roof coughed up slate, a mad gate did its nut, unhinged.
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- 877 reads
Susan makes me think of something
There was enough room for a sparrow to perch in the waiter’s earlobe. A sparrow, its ears burning, flew in through the back door, bounced on the windows, and then left.
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- 870 reads
Large Collider
A boy named Hadron
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- 2245 reads