The Gala Party

March 28, 2009 by · Comments Off on The Gala Party
Filed under: Arts 


“Life is too short to remain unnoticed.”

Real walls dressed in real blue, black, or white

set the surreal background.

Words hang all over them,

words of a mastermind bordering on insanity,

a madman that is not mad.

Words speaking of temptation,

art, beauty, power, erotic pleasures, knowledge, life, greed, and desire;

everything and nothing at all.

Words fill the shallow space with Catalan, Spanish, and French

merging the absurd with the brilliance.

“Beauty is nothing but the sum of our perversions.”

Faint lights escort the uninvited guests

that toddle in sneakers, backpacks, and jeans.

Their eyes and minds in awe and disbelief

don’t know where to stare or where to start.

Picasso, humbly relegated to the cellar

pays his respects for this gift to imagination

that came out of single illusory brain.

Impressionist irreverence of the surreal makes

the clocks of butter under the sun

toll the dreamlike metal.

“Everything alters me but nothing changes me.”

The bronze-attired lady, like a goddess without believers

discovers her missing entrails

by opening her drawer breasts.

Right behind her, hollow Isaac Newton appears with no smile

as his character has been replaced by his accomplishments.

An egg headed turtle with a Spanish bean on her back,

wearing a soft and bent armor

crawls through a darkling piece of marble sea.

Horse shaped Napoleon surrounded by bronze ants

is lead by Gargantua and Pantagruel

wearing their technicolor Gala suits.

Elephants that look like ballerinas.

Ballerinas that look like fish

Fish that don’t look like fish.

They all dance inside the frames.

The whittled double tip cane of life,

the foundation of air, wine, and Camembert

keeps the concave building from folding onto itself.

At the end, a medley of guns, pesetas, and vaginas

welcomes the last of the dodos

in a passage from the Bible.

Everything lost its ordinary function

and took on an amusing, fantasy-like quality

removed from all rationality.

“When I was five I wanted to be a cook,

at fifteen, a firefighter,

but then, my ambition grew even more than me,

I wanted to be Salvador Dalí.”

And he succeeded even beyond his being.