Fast Poem

A line of men getting progressively smaller
The last one has toadstools instead of wolf like ears.

I read the tombstone face with a thermometer candle
This went out when it reached 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit.

The lady I met in the flying submarine half smiled
The light bulbs in her necklace lit one by one.

I crouch on coprolites with a stepladder on my knees
The iceberg at the top had just caught on fire.

The moray eel in a hot air balloon prays to the ground
Grey clouds form the shape a braking articulated lorry.

I push my head through a crumbling sand clock
The rest of the merman’s body is trapped inside.

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About Gerald Shepherd

Gerald Shepherd is a painter, graphic artist, sculptor, digital/multimedia artist, photographer, writer, curator and arts administrator. He has also been involved with science art, performance art, conceptual art, installations and environments (as well as peripheral creative pursuits such as garden design).
This entry was posted in Poetry, Uncategorized, Writing and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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