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A French Surrealist Lullaby

7 Apr

This is a poem I wrote about a poetry professor from my grad school days who passed away recently. I don’t write a lot of poetry, but I thought this would be the best way to memorialize such a great writer and teacher. Rest in peace, Anselm Hollo. 

 

I’m accidentally brilliant

to your mumble rumble,

dissecting artists far greater than me

as your wanderings

vibrate through my joints.

In the dim view

I became a poet just

to fight you off,

pulling words

out like splinters

to stay awake.

A decade later,

your laugh is echoed

and I recall

being lulled into

creating.

You are my

reactive muse

again.

END

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