ðɛɹwˌʌz nˈoʊ pjˈʊɹɹɚ kəntˈɛmpɚɹˌɛɹi sɚɹˈiːəlɪst ðɐn ðə sloʊvˈiːniən pˈoʊɪt tˈɑːmæz sˈælɐmˌʌn, hˌuːz pˈoʊᵻmz ɑːɹ nˌɑːt dɪzˈaɪnd təbi ɪntˈɜːpɹɪɾᵻd bˌʌt ɪnstˈɛd tʊ ˈækt əpˌɑːn ˌʌs, ɪn ˈɔːɹdɚ tʊ ˈoʊpən ˌʌp ɪn ˌʌs ɐ lˈɪɾəl dˈoːɹmənt spˈeɪs ʌv wˈɪɹdnəs wˌɛɹ wiː kæn hˈoʊpfəli fˈiːl mˈoːɹ fɹˈiː.
There was no purer contemporary surrealist than the Slovenian poet Tomaz Salamun, whose poems are not designed to be interpreted but instead to act upon us, in order to open up in us a little dormant space of weirdness where we can hopefully feel more free.