
JOHN RICHARDSON | SURREALIST
It Is Dusk In The Border Town
It is dusk in the border town
A man returned to his home
He is shocked to discover it engulfed in flames of desire
It is dusk in the border town
The man we are watching slowly lifts his coffee cup
The stars explode with anticipation
It is dusk in the border town
The beautiful woman smiles enigmatically
A passing dog murmurs something in Chinese
It is dusk in the border town
A nude woman can be seen on the church tower
Slowly she is covered in ice
It is dusk in the border town
The dreamers shout out their defiance
As they write the words freedom and love on their eyelids
It is dusk in the border town
Revolution stalks the classrooms
Whilst the alchemists make their way to the séance
It is dusk in the border town
Despite the outrageous lightning
Nothing is revealed
It is dusk in the border town
Logic and reason meet with chance and the unconscious
And the moment is caught in a flake of pure blood
It is dusk in the border town
The air burns with unconscious desires
As the lovers cast off their shadows
It is dusk in the border town
We wander the streets between the real and the imagined
Somewhere a council bureaucrat is hallucinating
It is dusk in the border town
A woman lifts her skirt as she sips her rioja
A heron flies from the burning river
It is dusk in the border town
The disgraced nun places her tired shadow on the ground
While the sun and moon kiss and declare their love
It is dusk in the border town
Somewhere a young man reads Breton’s ‘Free Union’ for the first time
Along Backfold Hope strolls hand-in-hand with Desire
11 September 2014
Spain