Andre Breton, the pope of Surrealism, once said the ultimate surrealist act would be to fire at random into a crowd in the street until the bullets ran out. Today, of course, that isn't surrealism; it's the news. (Where does that leave us as writers? What avenues are left open to shock, startle, and dismay?)I have tried to make a poem of this situation. It's called AVANT-GARDE; it's short; it brings in a remark by filmmaker Jean-Luc Goddard as well; and it's been submitted to a few publications.
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