Fin Sorrel – 1 poem



Helium Griselda lying in a switched radio sun set    Flight over     badlands, over    clouds ~ helium Griselda
Shapeshifter of orange jewelry setting her platinum body
into the glass cliffs~

Haven’t touched whales to ceiling in a long continuum, fluctuating between clock hands, white clocks and roaming room, guitars flying in the sky canceled out ~

Sky fly by on a tricycle shallow pool of voices to swim in ~
Motorcycle have to paste paper on the rocks above snake nest 1 & 2 & 3, expect delays ~

& Tea formulas created drip-pressed flowers inside my
Stomach & mind

Pink fight fishing a swim on a pants leg in a rage to capture
Madison/ Milwaukee /94 Chicago/ 30 Fort Wayne
90 Cleveland/ 86 Erie/ 86 13 Randolph


                                Further looped
                  Sounds the turkey
                  That the shooting
                  Lifter steady crank
Hand and a pulley shoulder
Through elbow to open the
Bird cage


Let out the swans and ghosts to the closet with its wheel spun there, when you reach the  wheel and the mechanical
Hand turns, unlocks ~ The spin wheel to a secret lake in the walls of our house ~ where the swans go to for   fish and
Wandering slaves ~ beneath the paint.  

           Pencil thin orange taste in the furniture    inside of strawberry yawn that opens up     the broken down house walls  on a hillside, only at dawn and dusk, can you see this ~
            We’ll meet there

            Sample shelf sits cross bones in the metal sorry
            Meadow and ships rotating

            The moss spider webs back wheel in the sound
            Of breath

            Ooze flower from her eyes and mouths and nostrils
            Drip pumpkin

            Salivate, reflect doorknob pinstripe neon green black
In the peaceful warm soup of the compost sequel two sundays:

Sarcasm center floated by in the garden peopled with children who play basketball, saw blade season and leather painted doors ~

             Top down at the tower of Pizza. Peppermint sunlight ~ and moonlight. A moon stone horsey rides

             Through the ocean at midnight ` Squid that rummage through boxes in my memory hide there in the fuzed blue glow ~ A distant morning ship

             A keyring nausea takes off clothes and lifts up the bodies from the snake infested terra cloth kitchen table ~ that winter hands from a chandelier now~ fly trap line paper ~ Sinks Shannon the roses

             Gypsy flowers climb on the porch steps ~



Fin Sorrel is an editor at Mannequin Haus, and author of the forthcoming book of surreal stories, Caramel Floods (Pski’s Porch Publishing). 


About gobbet

gobbet is a literary magazine dedicated to publishing the very best experimental poetry and prose. Intellectual perversity and explorations of dark themes are positively encouraged. We are only interested in work that is progressively experimental. We want to see risks, and we want to see them pay. No previously published work. Prose should not be longer than 1000 words. There are always exceptions. Send 3-5 poems. Include a short bio. Send submissions to Work will be published every 5-10 days. We also intend to publish anthologies of selected work published in gobbet. We will do our best to reply promptly. Most submissions will receive a decision within a month.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s