The body of the River, suffering from depression, steals away her daughter – climbing up to a small mountain village isolated from the wild narratives of the North, dreams layered like fine silk, formed by the unpredictable world.
Odeon metaphors climb tall Epithets –
leaving behind Pitiful Hats.
Oxymorons exude bittersweet
Xotty Yellow Mirrors,
found near surprising juxtapositions,
that cling to ephemeral epistles.
The Sparks sanguinely sing.
Grains of cumin
gently fall into the sleeping becks.
This folklore has crafted
a comforting poignant calibration –
jumping kitchen sinks
hopscotch across ceiling tiles
to the beat of Celtic reels –
flips and flickers,
fear-caring effervescent spirit tongues
Bbq’d perogies brown,
crisp & swell,
bursting open –
a congregation of butterflies.
In the small Forest of Oxymora, history is woven in moss & mirrors of starfish monologues . Hidden Kelp becomes a poet in the sky. This has a history of inevitable reflections and philosophic pointillism.
Fabulism – “a range of non-realist narrative” or a literature of the fantastic which includes, but is not necessarily limited to magic realism, slipstream, literary science fiction, new weird, modern fable, fairy tale, literary horror, and surrealism. I resist the idea of one clear definition and refuse to draw a solid line between genres as I actually prefer to blur them. Most definitions, like manifestos, tend to exclude and qualify to the point of being useless to any practice of writing for wholeness and mystery, which I feel is an original gift of the muse. (Editor David Memmot of Wordcraft)