Against Surrealism

  1. A cripple passes by holding a child’s hand
  2. After that I’m going to read André Breton?
  3. -César Vallejo
  4. The trees are blackened with trash bags and the sidewalk is black.
  5. At the door stands an Argentinian composer. In 1978, after
  6. a heart transplant, she woke with a mild case of amnesia, enough that
  7. she didn’t recognize her own music, declared it the work of an insane person
  8. and started over again. Throw every slip of paper into the furnace.
  9. Those boxes are not going to fold themselves. All the children are wearing stripes
  10. for a reason known only to the girl you are in love with
  11. who has a gigantic gap between her front teeth and holds a lacrosse stick
  12. with the shaft resting on her collarbone. Every year, 400 people die
  13. by accidentally getting rolled into carpets and forgotten. You have lost
  14. the hand you were holding when you entered. Did you let go
  15. of it or did it let go of you? This question is written on the ceiling.
  16. Your body is a mannequin made from the spare parts of horses.
  17. The girl is twirling the lacrosse stick. Is she beckoning you with it?
  18. Pine needle after pine needle falls through the horizon. Each emptiness
  19. arrives in the shape of a car. The Argentinian tucks a child into each,
  20. buckles the belt, tests the belt. None of us knows enough about movies.
  21. The girl you love stands and smooths her skirt across her legs.
  22. She is going to leave you. She is going to leave you the lacrosse stick.
  23. Instead of going down the sun turns away. The Argentinian is smoking
  24. on the corner. All the children are gone. There are no cars
  25. anywhere; the buildings are dark. Are you leaving, too? you ask.
  26. More than anything, she says, I don’t want to start over again.