An international online magazine that publishes Surrealist poetry in English.
One branch of science frames the world as an allegory
of standing water with fuzzy edges and entropy. Ever since
the pastoral nostalgia of Spanish moss and the invention
of novel inventions, the cyclotron of atmosphere
has infringed upon peninsulas, flattened and muddled us
in basement bacteria. Too often tire shops get the pressure
wrong. In a land of itchy garments, concessions are made
to the bad pipes of Michigan and quaking Oklahoma. Only
media know how to filter us as we marvel at the emoluments
of this month's child rescued from a dry well. A compass
has no use now that all roads have curlicued into cloverleaves.
Thus, leaving is an act of standing still in water up to knees
needing surgery. We can't even pay for stone tools extracted
from the muddy bottom of another branch of science.
...the waters shall no more become a flood... And the bow shall be in the cloud...
—Old Testament (Genesis 9:15-16)
Here in a land at the end of the end, where coastline
kneels in supplication, stoups on the boardwalk overflow
with bacilli and sacramental beer. A legation of tourists
in meditation sanctifies hot spots with soothing cream.
For decades, a red-zone prophecy has coursed
through clairvoyant airwaves and wires. Immersed
in aphorisms and affectations, engineers order
sand piled high as a liturgy for water repellence.
When grace slides down the sluice of heaven,
bathers in their piety don bikinis or Speedos
for the rite of aspersion which makes a slurry
of their venial sins. Now they're ready
for inundation, the broken promise of Genesis:
no sign of a rainbow, but a second flood.
Alan Elyshevitz lives in East Norriton, Pennsylvania. He is the author of a collection of stories, The Widows and Orphans Fund (SFA Press), and three poetry chapbooks, the most recent being Imaginary Planet (Cervena Barva). His poems have appeared in River Styx, Nimrod International Journal, Water~Stone Review, etc. Winner of the James Hearst Poetry Prize from North American Review, he is also a two-time recipient of a fellowship in fiction writing from the Pennsylvania Council on the Arts.