From: derek
Date: Sat Nov 27 12:43:14 MST 2004
Subject: Quick Sketch (a surrealist poem)

Quick Sketch Derek Hugen, 11-24-04 I sketch out your hair strangely, scribble pressed motion of graphite like weird movement. I go in later with kneaded eraser to break blond highlight like yellow sun break free across brazen sharp blue sky. When you touch me your turning hair skin jump shuttering like dead French poem compiled with building blocks of human thought and eclectic idea. Eventually, so far removed from fantasy that intimacy mimics minimalism. I could even smittened of yellow squares , how they move like waves, caressing everything painted in endless circled paints. If ever your eyes walk even ever in a room with me it will be the room of a wake. And I will smell the smells of fresh flowers in the foyers. And this too will be you. You will abstract so to become holy cultivated gardens of vegetable and flowers crawl under moist soil to touch seers habits (PENGIUN SUIT!). Then uniform of hair had sketched in blindly broken rage from sharp edge of graphite into mechanical pencils, mechanisms hijacking beauty of illegally distributed photocopies of copyrighted Dorian Grays. A billion Pop art overloads. Delusional beauty just left of ancient computer alone in ancient Greece. Locked up glance inside of eyes. Kill mind take up body zombie hostage green in smiling circle. Rectangle! Everything purple blue bleed red. Ach! Then fade Cassandra forget to mention. "Blind!" I yell, orbiting the pencil stroke across the next page for nothing.

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