Stab at surrealism

One can hear the industrial dirge’s exhaust resonate from the mouth of the Valley, where it rises condensed as cold mountain breath during the Sunless months in Linderhof. The people now only rise to blow kisses to the summits, lit up like candles by the trees’ garnet and, at times, gold and orange degeneration.

 Deficiency hangs from disheartened branches, weeping over the field of epitaphs written on sapphire beetle backs behind the church. The pool of irises has never seen an untruth, as the minds of the city are pushed in animal skinned buggies down.down.down the promenade.

A phantasmagoric gathering takes place every noonday, where children’s wet hearts dehydrate among spools of gossamer. The abandoned train tracks overgrown by the cemetery still spit more friction than the youth’s synaptic tips in a throe of passion. And, indeed, their eyes were never prone to staring at anything for long.

The people are too polite here. Their chests are suppressed. By the altitude. By the mile-thick clouds. By a place with no mirrors and too much loneliness.

A city in suspension means the chicken takes longer to cook, but the children of Linderhof sustain on daily pilgrimages to the belly of the Valley while trying to remember where once the sun filled the ebbing arteries of the town with diamonds. Instead, they come upon a glass vein full of hibernating jewelry boxes within sight and out of reach of their sharp shovels and molten, misled desire.

For weeks, the mouth of the Valley entertained blankets of swan plumage in hopes of provoking lighthearted indulgence. But a light breeze always seems to uncover and recover too many pieces of the whole to understand an entire emotive climate. What may have been lost since Apollo’s absence was forgotten just as much as it was revealed. Saffron farmers collect millions of feathers in large bins for the women who craft the alters for the city’s dreams.

The rest of Linderhof is kept busy reciting song and poetry, blowing kissing and taking stolen glances at the sky. Anything to keep from wondering if this is the year the sun will not return.