Radio Molar Signal


One moss harbor,

winding clocks in center’s orbit, wobbling

circus –

three camera’s, a candle vessel – paddling through power lines, black then white.

Sure – a noise dreamt cricket –

Weave these prayers into flux –

refine metals, resemble the limbo we sing in fisheries,

under long,

black silhouettes

shining onto one light, our mugwort song.

A variant of dance-shore-barking-through-pylons,

emerging now to ease our eyes onto sea.

Dietrich​, running calculations in her dreadlocks – chai tea throat, gloating washer sounds, fleeting

Dietrich and Micah gesture with headphones, vintage socks bedroom scattered in nervous dream.

Gotu Kola​ likes refrigerator, Coral – delicate, nervous in the cabinet, in his

CHI place – backwards, pressing Tai Chi Chuan into his cabinet. In the nervous, delicate Coral


Gotu Kola ​likes dream, weary in scattered bedroom socks, vintage with headphones tucked under

blankets of velvet curtain, Micah gesture.

Dietrich​, fleeing a washer sound, gloating chai tea throat, dreadlocks in her calculations, running,


A cliff upset with needles – walking, running, fingerprints – those thin lights, driven hollow, blackberry

cloud mother floating in the round world.

A segmented sky-piece of rooms, hanging vultures on string, to the sun, silent

to our father, for umbrellas. Often times raining hand tools, hammers, saw blades, screw guns, into landings, hung nice now. Sheds, overgrown.

Sound Collages​ Require a Leaking Light

In the chattering of rooms, where sky

wraps through blinds, air connects broken milk that the birds follow;

with a wilted sunlight –

that folded flower memory, down, over the deeper jungle of

this black Elm tree –


within weeping rooms.





Sentient Cafes


Static in the rim of the waters edge

could mean the numbers printed in the

circuit fell through holes, a painted

shadow crosses the wall.

Painted broken radios hang from string

in the rafters of this naked animals room

Three main tapestries fall out like

receipts at the groin of a shot by shot


This white sash metaphysics playing from the radio, into a tin Jacksons of



Scotch Moment and the spoon hangs

a wooden memory stuffed behind its chain

and a bent nail shadowed

Two plastic flowers grow near our

ceiling velvet, leaves reflect daylight


Geranium steps


pictures’s steady in the rose beyond their diffused roots, a ruin bird sent laughing at the principal

this neon motion, the knife of rusted alloy roses made out of razor blades

rolling into the stairway of a

geranium blossom

we search with our eyesight

along the horizon

at the blurred edge that

comes with a distance,

at the magnified flowers

with ruby lunch in a paper

sun, overflowed pockets of

sunlight pour out whispers

onto the alleyway.

A rocks sculpture textured with glass

and rabbits

rises on pulleys to the surface

of our dawn.

Through little electric wires

sent in signals (morse code)

to the tree house window.

I notice the fiber optics birds

chasing out donkeys

from an oak dome habitat.

The donkeys wings are willows,

are sycamores.

Children climb the wings horizontally

using a fort inside to play telephone

with birds.

A damp, orange matrix of sun-light

merges satellites

high perched neck line in my

catacombs, but I am not

yet ruined by the birds.

A window

doors frequency

installs the perception


in mediocre memory, but eyes are not the only serpents, and littered kangaroos that


in the back of the hat do more than thresh TV’s against the

county fair hay bales.

Eyes, mint dream cadillac converter

the steaks pressed down on the

tin foil roof, hammer raised high.

The skillfully infrastructure wires

of the rain, hang gliders open up

flowers, down crashes the

cold spores.

When reaching for the wooden

ladder, geraniums at the entry-way

put morning on everything dreamt before or after –

The color leaks into the TV’s on the kangaroo shoulders.

In the flight of the birds

a symphony of ruby notations

calm stitching of wings

A breaking open of curtain

A stack of lamp shades

The lampshades painting’s

A hanging rose

string from room to room

The light comes in those

and touches all of shadows

Irise de tendre mainate fumoir

gagneur fusil modique

moellon passe-droit


vereux of angelique

ancre corriger


iridescent to relax plaquer

bird smoking room

winner rifle modest

rubble stone special privilege

saw worm-eaten angelica

anchor mark detailed, to


( I )

iridescent slack of birds in a

smoking room

and the winner rifle, modest


rubble stone, this speaks of

special privilege,

their long saw, a winter with

worm-eaten angelica

that is their anchor mark

they detailed it

to veneer



Devancier voyage of thin hooks

egg cup coquetier vaccine

that utter

backwash remous at the dactyl lights,


in vacuum toiture – roof

laborious laborieux territory in feathered

paper hanky

Luxury, the mouchoir tergum

that forms in the synapses, in to regain ones

regatta tensil, the passenger ressaisir

neatness that elapses contentions in

space, tentacle, saison that

punctuate saccade jerky season

leaf lips in a raven safari

ravine of colifichet trinket the reactor

realm and alchemy shriveled of

actions jersey

jersais ravioli whips around the peaks, thought reading railway

funiculaire from the windows of a vital phenomenon ecrier to exclaim reach to vacancy of the

reprendre recapture

the day before yesterday avant hier inside doldrums, or

by adopted curetage, the body a turbine wheel of passage clou and

a charger

sensible wise chargeur, avise, azyme – unleavened bread

reanimation gesture








FIN SORREL is the editor for Mannequin Haus: His work appears at Queen mobs teahouse and in the modern anthology of surrealism (Salo press 2016)