Art: État de transe sur Champs-Élysées, Publicis Drugstore, Paris 8 by Bore’ Ivanoff
A SERIES OF POEMS
I
an earth that is not ours grows with no hair and requires a wig made of refrigerators to keep cool when the sun misses its curling iron
if we beg for more water the oil will run out of ammo
a talk box in the middle of a sunrise begs for peter frampton’s getaway
my world’s on fire how about your arrow in the back of the umbrella—has it seen where the water went?
today i spoke with a chef about oak trees and told them how long my toenails were. the chef raised their glass and forgot how to eat
a red lock passed on athletic tape so as not to wear the weather around its temperature.
bronze made out of plastic made out of bark made out of gravity
so long to the hour i once dressed up as for halloween
IV
the president has removed his neck and claims to be the new ghost rider
an onion dreams of being stolen
in here is out there and in there has no place being out here
feeling like a drip of morphine the hall monitor pulled up their pants and began opening up each locker to look for bats
when we squeeze ink out of a pen the page begins to shriek the winds begin to eat the feet begin to peel and the apple turns its back on the world that only wants a worm in its heart
VI
the cold war renamed ‘popular vote’
a scribe is given an opiate and told to grow wings and fly far away from here for fear of being seen as a raccoon
water is growing up through the asphalt like a weed
snow bleeds
IX
a cat lines up to build an extravagant water tower on the surface of the moon just in case the tropical storm makes an otherworldly shift at the last second
throw darts at a poster of harold bloom
two birds three fish and dr. octagon wonder what it would be like to see the grand canyon and schedule a doctor’s appointment
tomorrow i will stand in the middle of the front door to my home and never leave the middle ground of visible phenomena
a shadow politely requests five saltine crackers with butter
inside i am no one and everything and the cells in my body refuse to read sentences written by canon balls
X
a pistil turns blue after being submerged in a tub of ice water for twenty minutes
decaf coffee becomes more expensive by the hour and soon will be sold out everywhere in the universe, finally
growth requires magnesium and so does ice if it wants to find its burn
once frozen the pistil is known to wake up and remember every capital gain it has ever dreamt of
About the author:
alexcintron is a surrealist from ohio and has published work in Denver Quarterly and Mannequin
Haus.
Art: État de transe sur Champs-Élysées, Publicis Drugstore, Paris 8 by Bore’ Ivanoff
In the artist’s words:
Bore’ Ivanoff is an Eastern Europe-born artist painter, based in Paris since 2001, passionate of cityscape paintings, and especially of Parisian views, “jamais vus” motives are his special feature, blurring the line between abstraction and realism.
For Bore’, Paris it’s the kind of place that offers the right combination of inspiration and pain and
suffering and success to keep him stimulated and painting.
Bore’ wants to experiment how far he can push reality to the other side where the “real” is still
recognizable, but becoming totally abstract, building that tension until they are just one and the
same.