30 Days Underneath the Ground

As it happens, not everyone agrees on certain definitions. For instance, what a pair of practicing Surrealists consider "public art," other people might call "vandalism." The people who run the LA County Jail, it turns out, call it that. See, they think that urinating on the Los Angeles Times building...well, let's just say we weren't able to convince them that our ambitions were pure, lofty, and gallery-worthy. Live and learn.

So we've been away for a while.

You know what's objectively funny, though, no matter who you are or what personal distress you might be in at the moment? A grown man being lifted in the air by two uniformed policemen, while he's still urinating yelling "Warhol did it first! Warhol did it first!" at the top of his voice.

Thanks for waiting. Here's some surreal:

In the Liquid Paper room where there should have been no shadows,
Shadows began to pool, and took the form of a man.
Invisible to all but he, skeletons crouched in the corners
Bowing musical saws with their own femurs
Or attacking washboards with borrowed ribs.
A hummingbird the color of smoke hovered
Above the figure in the bed. Eyes closed.
All eyes were closed.
The shadows crept to the form, the woman
Shrinkwrapped in white linen, and knelt.
"Poetry" he whispered, "is a bead of sweat
Tracing your perfect spine down...down...down..."
And, at long last, she opened her eyes.