What better way to while away those hazy quarantine hours than with a game of…SURREALIST BINGO? Courtesy of Megan Leach.
The three weird sisters passed a lotus flower growing out from within an old women’s ear. The flower was male, and the tired women was heard quietly mumbling to herself that she wished that he would find somewhere else to lay his dirty roots. “Nature seems dead today”, commented the third sister.
Hear, now, the drums throbbing to mark the newly laid spring. Here, now, is the song of exile sung under the cinnamon tree where the milk of human kindness drips uncleanly. Hear, then, the psalms are budding yearly.
“Its in the rain!” cried death’s counterfeit. Death remained utterly confused as in his dreams he existed as a hairless shell, i.e. causing oblivion.