{"id":731,"date":"2011-06-17T01:38:49","date_gmt":"2011-06-16T14:38:49","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.robwalkerpoet.com\/?page_id=731"},"modified":"2011-06-17T01:46:45","modified_gmt":"2011-06-16T14:46:45","slug":"small-stuff-2","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"http:\/\/www.robwalkerpoet.com\/?page_id=731","title":{"rendered":"Tropeland. Surreal estate."},"content":{"rendered":"
<\/p>\n

Find more artists like Max_Mo<\/a> at Myspace Music <\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

The Max_Mo version.<\/p>\n

Tropeland. Surreal estate.<\/strong><\/p>\n

In the Land of Trope
\nboxes of matches spontane combustiously,
\nself-ignite like passion.
\nVampire bats appear as garbags snagged on barbed-wire fences
\nButterflies float skyward like liberation<\/p>\n

In the Land of Trope street lights go through the phases of the moon
\nwhile the real moon waits for the traffic lights to change.
\nDeep serene ponds resemble your eyes and babies\u2019 cheeks are gardenias <\/p>\n

In the Land of Trope ears roar like the ocean
\nwhen you hold them up to your shell
\ncellos are the waists and childbearing hips of country girls <\/p>\n

In the Land of Trope cotton wool confined
\nto bathroom cabinets thinks it\u2019s a cloud
\n forming over the ranges
\nthe day sky tries to be as blue as the child\u2019s pencil
\nwhile the night leaves itself deliberately empty
\nfor the distant sound of a lone
\ndog <\/p>\n

In the Land of Trope sweat from armpits impersonates
\ncinnamon bark and vanilla pods
\nSimiles assimilate later as comparative as a comparison<\/p>\n

In the Land of Trope dark sky splits white lightning apart
\nand all poetry is black \t\t\t\texcept for
\nthe pink bits<\/p>\n

In the Land of Trope nothing is like anything else
\nIt\u2019s as fat as a fat thing or as like as an as.
\nIt\u2019s as different as everything and like nothing else.<\/p>\n

In the Land of Trope pine forests are as fresh as toilet disinfectant,
\nlemons smell as clean as dishwashing detergent.
\nSilver coins look like rain-filled sheep hoofprints <\/p>\n

In the Land of Trope 2 a.m. clocks tut-tut that you\u2019re not asleep.
\nMountain scenes are almost as realistic as paintings.
\nSurreal estate.
\nleaves fall in love every autumn and
\ndrums beat like a
\nheart.<\/p>\n

In the Land of Trope dogs feel as sick as a man
\nwheels are as silly as eccentric children
\nand tacks never feel flat.<\/p>\n

In the Land of Trope rainbows come blank
\nso you can colour them in yourself
\nfrom ultra-yellow to infra-green<\/p>\n

In the Land of Trope pins are as neat as houses,
\nrabbits breed like the poor. A whip
\nis as smart as a sadomasochist<\/p>\n

In the Land of Trope
\nmoney is mute and
\nhumility talks.<\/p>\n

In Tropeland
\nIt\u2019s better for you<\/p>\n

And metaphor me.<\/p>\n

\u00a9 rob walker, 2010.<\/p>\n

(This poem was first published in Mascara Literary Review<\/em>.)<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Find more artists like Max_Mo at Myspace Music The Max_Mo version. Tropeland. Surreal estate. In the Land of Trope boxes of matches spontane combustiously, self-ignite like passion. Vampire bats appear as garbags snagged on barbed-wire fences Butterflies float skyward like … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"parent":531,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-731","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.robwalkerpoet.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/731","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.robwalkerpoet.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.robwalkerpoet.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.robwalkerpoet.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.robwalkerpoet.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=731"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"http:\/\/www.robwalkerpoet.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/731\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":735,"href":"http:\/\/www.robwalkerpoet.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/731\/revisions\/735"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.robwalkerpoet.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/531"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.robwalkerpoet.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=731"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}