A Letter to Andre Breton, Originally Composed on a Leaf of Lettuce With an Ink-dipped Carrot Quotes

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A Letter to Andre Breton, Originally Composed on a Leaf of Lettuce With an Ink-dipped Carrot A Letter to Andre Breton, Originally Composed on a Leaf of Lettuce With an Ink-dipped Carrot by Jarod Kintz
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A Letter to Andre Breton, Originally Composed on a Leaf of Lettuce With an Ink-dipped Carrot Quotes (showing 1-4 of 4)
“Here's a haiku/palindrome I wrote called, "Obsession."

Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob,
Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob,
Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob”
Jarod Kintz, A Letter to Andre Breton, Originally Composed on a Leaf of Lettuce With an Ink-dipped Carrot
“The Chair


I’m writing to you, who made the archaic wooden chair
look like a throne while you sat on it.

Amidst your absence, I choose to sit on the floor,
which is dusty as a dry Kansas day.

I am stoic as a statue of Buddha,
not wanting to bother the old wooden chair,

which has been silent now for months.
In this sunlit moment I think of you.

I can still picture you sitting there--
your forehead wrinkled like an un-ironed shirt,

the light splashed on your face,
like holy water from St. Joseph’s.

The chair, with rounded curves
like that of a full-figured woman,

seems as mellow as a monk in prayer.
The breeze blows from beyond the curtains,

as if your spirit has come back to rest.
Now a cloud passes overhead,

and I hush, waiting to hear what rests
so heavily on the chair’s lumbering mind.

Do not interrupt, even if the wind offers to carry
your raspy voice like a wispy cloud.”
Jarod Kintz, A Letter to Andre Breton, Originally Composed on a Leaf of Lettuce With an Ink-dipped Carrot
“A Letter to Andre Breton, Originally Composed on a Leaf of Lettuce With an Ink-dipped
Carrot

On my bed, my green comforter
draped over my knees like a lumpy turtle,
I think about the Berlin Wall of years that separates us.
In my own life, the years are beginning to stack up
like a Guinness World Record’s pile of pancakes,
yet I’m still searching for some kind of syrup to believe in.
In the shadows of my pink sheet, I see your face, Desnos’ face,
and two clock faces staring at each other. I see a gaping wound
that ebbs rose petals, while a sweaty armpit
holds an orchestra. Beethoven, maybe.
A lover sings a capella, with the frothiness of a cappuccino.
Starbucks, maybe. There’s an hourglass, too, and beneath the sands
lie untapped oil reserves. I see Dali’s mustache,
Magritte’s pipe, and bowling shoes, which leaves the question--
If you could time travel through a trumpet, would you find
today and tomorrow too loud?”
Jarod Kintz, A Letter to Andre Breton, Originally Composed on a Leaf of Lettuce With an Ink-dipped Carrot
“I wrote this piece because my mailbox was full of bills, junk mail, and lettuce, but not a single letter from Andre Breton. So I decided I’d write to him (though I did eat my first two drafts).”
Jarod Kintz, A Letter to Andre Breton, Originally Composed on a Leaf of Lettuce With an Ink-dipped Carrot