When I leapt off the train, my knees squished like guavas.
In my cave I measured the wavelength of gamma rays.
The husband was Swiss, the children surfed.
She bemoaned that their lake had no waves.
When I fell from the Eiffel Tower, the guards laughed.
They reported a trespasser on their short waves.
The ocean is a concave mirror. Let's go
to West Virginia, fish trout, snap pics. Wave!
When I drove to the beach, the dunes were black.
Why do I always dream of tidal waves?
Someday they'll wash me. I'll swim like a porpoise.
On my island: smell of papaya in April and august.
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3 comments:
initial impressions: you nicely capture the non-sequitorial nature of dream logic. also the expected absurdity of dream imagery, without veering into the ridiculous. i'm a bit unsure of how i feel about the line "my knees squished like guavas", but i suspect it's because i'm uncertain of just how squishy guavas are. also considering your decision to drop the rhyme scheme in the last couplet.
oh, and the mention of guavas and papayas made me hungry for fruit. so now i'm out of blackberries. you owe me 5 bucks for that.
also, unfortunately, this line: "smell of papaya in April and august" conjures an image of flatulence. i think it's because of the lack of capitalization; makes me think it's your alias.
I don't know about flatulence, but I was thinking, "who's April?"
The sense of place in most of the phrases was interesting, considering the dream logic. And nerdily, I think the comparison between the electromagnetic ether (I know) and water is kind of cool. But concave oceans is the only part that grabbed me as nightmarish.
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