A Collection of Contemporary Surreal Poems
By: William Lucht
To Kerry, she brings the Kylo Ren out of my heart.
Sometimes, TV Dinner tastes better than restaurant food.
Other times. It doesn’t.
Sometimes, TV Dinner smells better than my wife’s food.
Sometimes, my wife makes TV Dinner.
Sometimes, TV Dinner makes me have dysentery.
However, I blame that on the wife.
Sometimes, TV Dinner helps me go to bed at night.
My wife doesn’t.
Sometimes, TV Dinner cares for the children.
Something she could never do.
Sometimes, TV Dinner leaves me alone.
She could never stop the voices.
Sometimes, TV Dinner helps me solve my problems.
Her voices lie six feet under.
Sometimes, TV Dinner I pray to you for salvation.
They said pick two: “Grades, Social Life, and Sleep”.
This is a sweet lie.
Why not: Love, Friends, Class, Work, Internships, Sleep, Family, Hobbies, Food.
Try hard at all of them.
Watch them crumble down, two by two.
That’s how it went for me at least.
The worst of all, was watching Sally leave.
Rest for the Wicked
They say “No Rest for the Wicked”.
Do they know the pain of the so called Wicked?
Their agony. Their crying pain.
Suspended in Immortality.
What was the price of knowledge?
Was the flame really so bad?
Did one not cry,
“Let our people go!”
Apple of knowledge.
Temptation so great.
Snakes from the tree.
Waiting for Armageddon.
The problem with four.
Three’s a crowd, and four is more.
Three is holy, truly exalted.
Four a number, devil assaulted.
What joy espouses from four?
Everything comes in threes, it’s an open door.
Three is known not for folly.
Unlike four’s banter and volley.
Three musketeers, fourth one added.
Just makes the whole thing padded.
Same thing for friends. Three is a group.
Four, two by two, in a soup.
Buzzfeed’s new clickbait, four reasons to hate four.
Truly a work destined for yore.
Three is where we ought to be.
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