Survision Logo

SurVision Magazine

An international online magazine that publishes Surrealist poetry in English.

Issue Nine


S. C. Flynn

Where the Unborn Are

I ride the world to the end of the line,
a fragile thing under a hard metal sky,
hearing the future say
the gods no longer need us
and heaven still costs what each can pay.
It's calling us on, but who knows where;
when all the questions are answered,
the problem still remains,
a child crying forever in the night.

The Good Things

A grey and heavy Tuesday
sprawls to the horizon;
the window might open onto a courtyard
filled with colour and life,
but never does. I want to drive a nail
deep into the clouds
and hang a bright canvas across the sky –
a crinkled hymn to day and night –
but try as we might, we'd always know
that the moon is just a lump of wood,
the sun a crumbling dried flower
and the stars only shiny little stones
hanging by loops of string
from the spindly branches of a tree.

We see ourselves as reflections
smudged in the back of a spoon,
two changing people in the same clothes each day,
so we rush on like open razors,
cutting open all the things that could have held us
while we grab a feeling or two
from a book as we pass by.
Now there's noise in the courtyard,
but the spoon needs washing
and the brittle sun slowly drops a petal.

S. C. Flynn was born in Australia to Irish parents, and now lives in Dublin. His poetry appears in Cyphers, Strukturriss, Bealtaine, The Waxed Lemon, Drawn to the Light, and Beir Bua.

Copyright © 2021 SurVision Magazine