A Surrealist's Dream Of A Cubist Umbrella Poem by Frank William Finney

It's been three years
since we chased the piglets
under the uplifted fence
and startled the old sow
from her heave-udder sleep

while the mallards celebrated
damp August unseasonable
sunfish sailors lamented
by their tarps and dripping trailers

but we
nonpareil tourists
rubbed cheeks
between the sumac
and Appaloosas' speckled haunches

the air was warm
the wine was crisp
the night you filled the
album with still life
we tethered
snapshots of reclining cows

the field of golden rod
the sheep wearing cowbells
in sticky plastic stalls

but you were right
to wake them
to pull them in
to protect them from the sparkling rain
to cut them
into mordacious triangles
pentacles trapeziums and trapezoids
and paste them
on the hall wall
as a tribute
to Braque Chagall and Gris.