Joan Miró’s Carnival of Harlequin, by Michael Brockley

the curly mind linguistically innovative poetry - weird & risky

You open the door to find kittens in pajamas playing tug-of-war with a thread. A masked fish gulps for breath on a blue mat. You think this is the wrong room but onions and Christmas bulbs blow bubbles of Scherherazade smoke. Or is this an illusion cast by the wasp in the jack-o’lantern box who may or not be a ventriloquist? The genie lamp on the opposite wall floats too high for you to reach. It bounces on a spring and spouts small guitars which play Blue Moon with notes written upside down. An older guitar has grown feet, a pale giraffe neck and a yin-yang face. You have a question for the pregnant cue stick but the Cyclops eye speaks to you of unicycles. Are those angels floating toward the ceiling in this bright room with a dark star in its sky or are they mermaids swimming in an…

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