Magical Realism
by Michael Doyle

Art and thought are products
Of their own serial moments
Pop culture and serious art
Are both expressions of the heart

Tugged down into the complex maze
Of primeval struggles
Between those who naval gaze
And those who merely bungle

Magical realism shines its conceit
As the story engine churns seduction
Allowing representation not deceit
While conspiracy theorists reveal deduction

Wiping out the narrative of our ongoing show
That is the universe of accepted mystery
All these parts of the pain that seems to flow
While the rest is simply discarded history

Deep in the landscape of malls and cookie cutters
Where broken geographies beg for their fill-in
The ships of capital have all lost their rudders
The abstract need for more begins again and again

Feeling half at home in the multi-ethnicity 
Abstracted in the concrete paths almost spiritual
While lingered on romantic aspirations of modernity
Our lives are half-shaped, yet, quietly habitual

Housewives pass time in electric salon conversation
While the genius of their ethics have gone flaky
You'll have to pardon my lack of fascination
For a fantasy of life that leads to its own devastation 

(c) October 1, 2021  Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved