SurVision Magazine |
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An
international online magazine that
publishes Surrealist poetry
in English.
Issue Four
JANET HAMILL Lake of Enchanted Silence It lies within a land of
horizon-questing stars. Eternity surrounds it with serenity. The lake's
sounds of eon winds ring with the azure of the infinite, only seen by
the sun. The sky-wrestled mount of immemorial zones and unfathomable
dreams thunder on the shores of iron years of rumor, fires and clouds.
The moon, like azure-shadowed snows, bar there from Eternity, shut from
all save the shadows of the sky.
The lake is fed and flows from the dour sky. The snows of the mien of space, filled finitely, find themselves doubled with the blue spleen herein. On the shore of the lake are perennial summer, the most beautiful birds, and the imperturbable depths of the waters grow blue and white. There is no life save that which penetrates this land. Look upon it until the image of a mind becomes Amaranths of butterflies drinking of infinity filling calm and smooth. Heavenly Graphems of Night Aldebaran's cradle song rotated winds around Saturn Books of Fixed Stars have charts for locating lost partners Cannibalism occurs when the teeth of great whites tear rival galaxies Delta Cephei pulsates so exactly, father time sets his watch to it Egg Nebulae crack the yolk of dying stars, enabling them light again Ferris Wheels light up amusement parks in Ptolemy's universe Galileo Galilei's glass lens swooned over the moons of Jupiter. Hubble 1 discovered the bright blue, black-pupiled third eye of the universe Infrared observation satellites hear cool blue notes rising over deep fields Jets of Hera's milk sprayed the night sky when she pulled Heracles away Kepler kept insisting that planets take an oval path around the sun Light years measure the distance from Earth to the first movie palace Meteor Showers in Perseus won Best Documentary Feature at Sundance Nebulae incubate red storm babies in a bed of dust and angel hair Observatories on the most remote peaks store the ashes of poets Pyramids are built of bricks imported from deserts on Mars Quasars prompted Philip the Navigator to send masts above the clouds Radio telescopes regularly pick up "Rainy Day Women #12 & 35" Spiral Galaxies whirl dervish-like in the sky zones of dogs Time keeps on slipping from the promised future of leopard temples Universal puzzles puzzle everyone who questions the origins of dolphins Voyager 1 crossed the heliopause and entered inter-stellar space on August 25, 2012 Waves expand in the wake of pirate ships laden with bounty for the gods Xenophanes of Kolophon dreamed of candles on all empyrean altars in heaven Ylem, the primal matter of the universe is responsible for bronze spears Zones of Avoidance are areas of the sky blocked by the Milky Way Incontinent Debauches For Christian Bök A bacchant lad asks a madam (as drachmas pass hands): 'what carnal acts can a man transact?' A gal can grab a man's balls and wank a man's shaft. A man can grasp a gal's bra and spank a gal's ass. A clasp snaps apart, and a scant shawl falls. The empress revels. She sheds her velvet dress; then she lets repellent men pet her tender flesh. Her lewdness renders even these lechers speechless. She resembles the lewdest jezebel. I miss living in sin, pinching thighs, kissing lips pink with lipstick. Slick pimps, bribing civic kingpins, distill gin in stills, spiking drinks with illicit pills which might bring bliss. Whiz kids in silk knit shirts script films in which slim girls might strip, jiggling tits, wiggling hips, inciting wild shindigs. Twin siblings in bikinis might kiss rich bigwigs, giving this prim prig his wish, whipping him, tickling him, licking his limp dick till, rigid, his prick spills its jism. Porno shows folks lots of sodor – zoom-shots of Bjorn Borg's bottom or Snoop Dogg's crotch. Johns who don condoms for blowjobs go downtown to Soho to look for pornshops known to stock lots of lowbrow schlock – off-color photos of cocks, boobs, dorks or dongs. Homos shoot photos of footlong schlongs. Blond trollops who don go-go boots flop pompoms nonstop to do promos for floorshows. Wow! Ubu cups Lulu's dugs; Ubu rubs Lulu's buns: thus Lulu must pull Ubu's pud. Ubu sucks Ruth's cunt; Ubu cuffs Ruth's butt. Ubu stuffs Ruth's bum (such fun). Ubu pumps Lulu's plush, sunburnt tush. Ubu humps Lulu's plump, upthrustrump. Ubu ruts. Ubu huffs; Ubu puffs. Ubu blurts: push, push. Ubu thrusts. Ubu bucks. Cum spurts. Ubu cums. Janet Hamill is a poet and spoken word artist; she has published eight collections of her poetry and short fiction, including Knock (Spuyten Duyvil, 2016) and Body of Water (Bowery Books, 2008) nominated for the William Carlos Williams Award by the Poetry Society of America. Her first collection of short fiction, Tales from the Eternal Cafe (Three Rooms Press, 2014), was named one of the best books of 2014 by Publisher's Weekly. She is the director of Megaphone Language Arts, at the Seligmann Center, located at the home of Swiss-American Surrealist painter Kurt Seligmann, in New York State's Hudson Valley. . |
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