<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
In the Land of Trope<\/p>\n
boxes of matches spontane combustiously,<\/p>\n
self-ignite like passion.<\/p>\n
Vampire bats appear as garbags snagged on barbed-wire fences<\/p>\n
Butterflies float skyward like liberation<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
In the Land of Trope street lights go through the phases of the moon<\/p>\n
while the real moon waits for the traffic lights to change.<\/p>\n
Deep serene ponds resemble your eyes and babies\u2019 cheeks are gardenias<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
In the Land of Trope ears roar like the ocean<\/p>\n
when you hold them up to your shell<\/p>\n
cellos are the waists and childbearing hips of country girls<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
In the Land of Trope cotton wool confined<\/p>\n
to bathroom cabinets thinks it\u2019s a cloud<\/p>\n
forming over the ranges<\/p>\n
the day sky tries to be as blue as the child\u2019s pencil<\/p>\n
while the night leaves itself deliberately empty<\/p>\n
for the distant sound of a lone<\/p>\n
dog<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
In the Land of Trope sweat from armpits impersonates<\/p>\n
cinnamon bark and vanilla pods<\/p>\n
Similes assimilate later as comparative as a comparison<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
In the Land of Trope dark sky splits white lightning apart<\/p>\n
and all poetry is black \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 except for<\/p>\n
the pink bits<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
In the Land of Trope nothing is like anything else<\/p>\n
It\u2019s as fat as a fat thing or as like as an as.<\/p>\n
It\u2019s as different as everything and like nothing else.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
In the Land of Trope pine forests are as fresh as toilet disinfectant,<\/p>\n
lemons smell as clean as dishwashing detergent.<\/p>\n
Silver coins look like rain-filled sheep hoofprints<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
In the Land of Trope 2 a.m. clocks tut-tut that you\u2019re not asleep.<\/p>\n
Mountain scenes are almost as realistic as paintings.<\/p>\n
Surreal estate.<\/p>\n
leaves fall in love every autumn and<\/p>\n
drums beat like a<\/p>\n
heart.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
In the Land of Trope dogs feel as sick as a man<\/p>\n
wheels are as silly as eccentric children<\/p>\n
and tacks never feel flat.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
In the Land of Trope rainbows come blank<\/p>\n
so you can colour them in yourself<\/p>\n
from ultra-yellow to infra-green<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
In the Land of Trope pins are as neat as houses,<\/p>\n
rabbits breed like the poor. A whip<\/p>\n
is as smart as a sadomasochist<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
In the Land of Trope<\/p>\n
money is mute and<\/p>\n
humility talks.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
In Tropeland<\/p>\n
it\u2019s better for you<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
and metaphor me<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u00a9 rob walker<\/p>\n
(first published Mascara Literary Review<\/p>\n
May, 2011)<\/p>\n
http:\/\/mascarareview.com\/rob-walker-2\/<\/a><\/p>\n Also in tropeland<\/a> (Five Islands Press) 2015<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" 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 liberation In the Land of Trope street lights go through the … Continue reading