SurVision Magazine / Gavin Yates

Oslo Oslo

I, 40mm stalwart et al.
       Minutes away
Imitations: Bauhaus, where that
fell from the sky. Myrtles,
       technicolour unexpected-
ly, sunspot:
rediscover the fissure. I
      hear from the editors the Oslo
Opera House,
few creaking myrtles
that drink all night if it rains,
off-white
if that has any context; brandishing context.
Sun rediscovers a minute phrase
a toddler might choke on.
40mm, strapped.
       At a loss of memory the big piece
hurtles to hell with it,
ticks incessantly, steady the gate.
       Strike a line, steal away the minutes,
the Oslo myrtles.

Apocalypse of Francis

Sulphur pulse circuits the bend, scuttles.
Dye blue in the cycle, spinning sinews, etched.
Never swill my wine, but think, from time immemorial
by sleeking trees dry as the deer hoof
hurts my gullet, in sagging dungarees down
to the exchange, with fresh cut. Stockpiled at Bruxelles-Central:
Hosanna, Ciarán: sure as one guerrilla downs the steer.
Simply for reference, hardest is facing material
forged from throwaways, forgetfully glam to a midpoint.

Gavin Yates is writer and researcher from Melbourne, Australia. His poetry has been published in Cordite Poetry Review, Inverted Syntax, Southerly, SurVision, and Westerly.

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An international online magazine that publishes Surrealist poetry in English. Issue Six GAVIN YATES Oslo Oslo I, 40mm stalwart et al. Minutes away Imitations: Bauhaus, where that fell from the sky. Myrtles, technicolour unexpected- ly, sunspot: rediscover the fissure. I hear from the editors the Oslo Opera House, few creaking myrtles that drink all night if it rains, off-white if that has any context; brandishing context. Sun rediscovers a minute phrase a toddler might choke on. 40mm, strapped. At a loss of memory the big piece hurtles to hell with it, ticks incessantly, steady the gate. Strike a line, steal away the minutes, the Oslo myrtles. Apocalypse of Francis Sulphur pulse circuits the bend, scuttles. Dye blue in the cycle, spinning sinews, etched. Never swill my wine, but think, from time immemorial by sleeking trees dry as the deer hoof hurts my gullet, in sagging dungarees down to the exchange, with fresh cut. Stockpiled at Bruxelles-Central: Hosanna, Ciarán: sure as one guerrilla downs the steer. Simply for reference, hardest is facing material forged from throwaways, forgetfully glam to a midpoint. Gavin Yates is writer and researcher from Melbourne, Australia. His poetry has been published in Cordite Poetry Review, Inverted Syntax, Southerly, SurVision, and Westerly.
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