Vote On Election Day
© Surazeus
2026 03 31

When I find secret land of Xanadu
hidden in misty mountain vale of peace
I will sing to the blue moon of respect
so screaming voices on the radio
vanish into silent ache of faith
because I like to flirt with Death at dawn.

Because he is still waiting for Godot,
the old man, who sits all day on the bench
in front of city hall, steals my fake name,
so I write it down in book of lost tales
when I visit museum of dead gods
whose skeletons dance around the North Pole.

When Godot arrives at the restaurant,
he introduces me to his new bride
named Saengdao, which means Starlight, he explains,
but she takes me sailing on her glass yacht
to Kharg Island in the Gulf of Hormuz
where she films her new folk-rap video.

When I try to vote on election day
the old man questions whether I exist,
so I disappear in a puff of smoke,
then drift without wings, humming lullabies
about death, over Yosemite Park
where Shakambari tends vegetable gardens.

Inscrutable spell of her recipe
for magic potion that heals harsh headaches
combines mental spice of spiraling words
with apricot cider of providence
which questions privilege of ownership
exposed by counter-oracles of truth.

While photographing young couples in love
who stroll the river walk in evening light,
Phrixus leans against the brass balustrade
and stares with sorrow at the silver sheen
that flickers with elusive Runes of fate,
then mounts gold ram and flies into the clouds.

Engaged with program to destabilize
global patriarchy through language keys,
Phrixus meets Godot in the crumbling church
where they discuss projects of bitter wealth
based on artificial intelligence
which hallucinates that Jesus returns.

Logic of random landscapes motivates
moral mission to organize networks
of neutral monsters with house mortgages
who load trucks with boxes of stolen dreams
through humble technique of successful ploy
upgrading unique spectrum of toy brains.

When he buys carrots of syntactic virus
from Shakambari by the broken gate,
Godot suddenly understands the joke
about the raven and the writing desk
Phrixus told him at the amusement park
while they were eating hotdogs of despair.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/03/…

Orpheus sits at the desk of skulls and writes clever jokes for when Phrixus and Godot perform stand-up comedy at the country club of billionaires.

#Poetry #Poem #Pastoral #Necropastoral #MetaModernism #Transrealism #NewSublimity #NewRomanticism #AmericanDream #Cinemism #Existentialism #Surrealism #NegativeCapability #NewGnosticism #MetaRealism #NewTranscendentalism #Astarism