poem

 Dali

After the Salvador Dali museum we bought

Fake mustaches and bottle cap sunglasses

And wandered the languid streets of St Petersburg.

In the glare of the sun the buildings wobbled

Like flicked Jell-O and sidewalks melted

And clouds liquified and spilled across the sky.

We laughed until tears fell back into our eyes.

But we knew it wouldn’t last

Eventually, everything began to congeal

Once again, the world was stiff and angled and hard

As every last possible cloud of probability arranged itself 

Into the myriad things and beings of the universe 

In terror, I reached for your quivering six-fingered hand 

Before it dripped away into the solid block of ocean 

We suddenly found ourselves standing on

3/7/25