Hope at 4am after Yves Tanguy Not in fact as a weightless bird which has just taken flight nor a cliff of layered stone, for this is a sea-air scene and the sleep you’ve laid to rest flashes past like clouds or, as Breton said ,writing about this can only exist as a form of…

The Grey Forest (after Max Ernst) A forest is a drawing-board, a supernatural insect, a bone totem in a drained sea. It’s lonely and conjugal trees house the last woman in the world; she grazes naked skin on sharp coral branches trying to reach the seaweed cathedral of shock flowers. Summer for the forest is…

Melancholy and Mystery of a Street (after Georgio de Chirico) She’s a shadow herself, though the hoop’s solid, and, yes, out of the diminishing returns of arched doorways she’s close behind. Beware tall encroaching citizens. Beware the colonnade of sunlight.  Beware tense isometric shapes like the wagon with the deceptive inner space which isn’t space…

Slubbed It’s not that you should ever abandon a treasure or have beautiful collections rather should this convoluted world of weather be reported to you by shopkeepers you can choose threshold or enclosure beyond all the encompassing boulevards and for reasons that you may not be able to comprehend your mind will be rucked and…