Wait. What?!?! (now found here).
Not every poem arrives with a map.
Some wander in carrying a carton of milk. Others arrive clutching peanut butter, arguing with swans, or insisting that Louis Vuitton has somehow become Blue Paul Giamatti. Logic is often present…but under no obligation to explain itself.
These poems inhabit the territory where absurdity, wordplay, misdirection, satire, and sheer linguistic mischief intersect. Some begin with a pun and refuse to recover. Others follow a perfectly reasonable thought straight off a cliff. A few simply stand in the middle of the gallery and dare reality to justify itself.
Welcome to the collection.
Please enjoy the exhibits.
Please refrain from feeding the metaphors.
The Collection 🦢🥛🥜
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The Hoka Polka
Middle-aged men may need their expensive maximal-cushion shoes, but financially responsible unicorns already have four fabulous hooves for dancing the polka.
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Pax Glugana
What happens when spinach becomes an imperial obsession? Pax Glugana reimagines a legendary sailor through the lens of Roman absurdity, proving that unchecked strength may come with…unexpected sacrifices.
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Juvenile Sportsman
Young Mikey Hunt has talent, determination, and absolutely no idea which sport he is playing. A tiny exercise in juvenile humor, athletic confusion, and the occasional necessity of letting poetry be completely ridiculous.
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Butter in a Cup
A rowboat drifts through the terminal of modern life where every departure is denied. Butter in a Cup explores exhaustion, obligation, and the absurd logic of sleeplessness through dreamlike imagery and deadpan humor.
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the pudding
A perfectly disciplined 5–7–5 about being the exception to every given rule. If the proof is in the pudding, the poet may be the pudding.
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wood you?
A rugged piece of highly suspicious lumber reaches an explosive conclusion while one curious witness watches from a safe distance.
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come again?
A whisper becomes a halo, anticipation becomes release, and intimacy expands beyond the body into something almost cosmic…before ending with a grin.
© 2026 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
