DALI'S INVITATION

Accepting your life,
your silent film presence
in Bunuel's first movie
"Un Chien Andalou"
at an art theater in Madrid
painted from hidden glimpses
we enter the camera footage
in a dark room
wild eyes splashing paint
sparkling in a feverish time
of emerging dizzying gloom
in spliced parchments
to cool the associated varnish
and vanish in concentration
in forbidden breath
of Franco's stretching time
from a dreary fascism's death
in a prism of mordant statements
as we receive your drawings
burnished from a museum's
shadowy Bohemian corridor
with your mustached waxed
over a stiff collar
in discordant anticipation
at your unrelaxed home coming
as a full legendary ghost
before your rise in reverie
at Barcelona's bull ring
from a toreador's host
of patinas and snowy nudes
in paint firing clockwise
at an unfamiliar canvas target
against the status quo
in uncurled surrealistic elements
as a daring unabashed psychic insight
poised from an organic hourglass
composed in a clashing nightmare
in fearful red shades
of illusive variations
to placate surfaced life wishes
covering eye glassed splashes
of beaming a metaphysical light
flames authored from photographs
that you discard in latest flashes
and an access of autographs
on scattered Spanish posters
we located at a used bookstore
in San Francisco City Lights
where you are on a placard.