Surrealist Poem Poem by Daniel Y.

unblinking mathematical lenses
a brain with twice eyes without lids
performing uncomputable operations
the surrealist completes their supertasks
painting them as artifacts

with surgical glove
he types instructions
telling the hands to grab and move
chained to sinking balloons.

spontaneous combustion, lettersmash
this non-sequitor of human-error
reveals some imagistic treachery.

the surrealist worships the imagination
against the grain of consciousness filters
the raw, unpacked, automation
the point of mind in which
the infinite touches us
in the creation of adam

Freudian slips into mosh pits
free association leads spindling

like
b u t t e r f l y
wings

time melted and scrambled
as if the sun pulled the trigger
Meursault seeks a new comfort
amidst all his nonchalant indifference.

even if I descend to the fires,
I am convicted by God to do so authentically.
I won't bet against Pascal
when it's not even clear what game we're playing.