I am the skin on the left side of your head.

I am the key to a door that won’t shut.

I am the string that holds up something that resembles the moon in almost every way except it isn’t the moon and it’s made of plaster, it is also somewhat smaller.

I am the flag that flies atop the mountain of your defeat. It’s just a metaphorical mountain, and there isn’t really a flag, but your defeat is very real.

I am a bowl with a substance in it.

I am a man disguised in a man suit.

I am a deer with a woman head.

I am a fireplace with a phantasmagorical talking baby inside that sits in the flames and forecasts the final episodes of unwatched sitcoms.

I am a star that’s really far away  on the other side of the universe and I’ve never heard of you and you’ve never observed me so what’s the point.

I am the demonic laughter of a child in an insurance commercial.

I am the only pure drop in a lake of poison. Or maybe  I’m the only poisonous drop in a pure lake. I can’t remember. Either way, drink something else.

I am the lid of a plastic bucket.

I am an institutional mop.

I am sand. I am sky. I am cake crumbs. I am your own fist, and you can’t control me one bit. Watch out!

I am every atom in the cosmos, I am everything and everywhere, within you and without you, before Time and outside Space. Since I am everything, I am at the same time Nothing, so you can safely ignore me until that day I come roaring at you, like a shower of coconuts, like the sun’s final flare, like static, like blindness, like the hill of Gethsemane several days after the crucifixion when they held a flea market there and someone bought a bag of china lizards, a deal, a real bargain, check them out….






Author: mattamati

Nothing remarkable to report. Born in suburbs. Diffidently educated. Used to do other jobs, now he does this one. Fancies self a writer.

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