One to fill a thousand pages

An epic in scope

A dream on earth

Oprah will sit me on her couch

And tell me how it has changed her

And I will thank her

And she will thank me

And she will ask me where I got that big idea

And I will swipe at her

And bare my teeth

She cannot have it!

It is mine!

Hasn’t she got enough?

And then they will take me away

And not air my segment

And I will be all alone with my big idea

And ten thousand books in my basement

Covered in chocolate and sprinkles

She came to me on an ice cream truck

In a cone, that did not taste good, but did the trick

I grabbed her in my hands

She melted

I was left with sticky goo

I was a mess

People walked by, pointed and laughed

But what did I care?

I was covered in chocolate and sprinkles

Right around the average

Depending on whether you think the thumb is a finger

I think it is

Maybe I should say my hand has five digits

But that sounds so impersonal

You don’t put a wedding ring on a digit

Unless you are marrying a robot

Which I hear will be possible sooner than we think

But they’ll probably call the robot’s digits ‘fingers’

To make it seem more human

I am not a petty man

I am not one who sees others have success

And belittles it

Even though it is undeserved

Even though they are self-centered, love-sponges soaking up their own fluids until they burst

Even though their achievements are shallow and will not stand the test of time

Like mine will

When I finally have them

No!

No!

No!

I respect these hypocrites

These two-faced jackals who suck at the teat of enterprise

And use decent folk

Like myself

As rungs in their ladder of ambition and derisiveness

Good on you!

All the best to you sneering, superior, privilege-flatulating pomposities

And now

That I have reached a certain point in my life

I have just one question to ask

Could you give me a job?

At first it was for tax purposes

But then

When I thought about all the attention I’d get

I got really excited by the idea

After all

There was a time when there were so many gods

You couldn’t count them all

Unless you were the God of Counting

Maybe I could be that?

Or perhaps the God of Excessive Paperwork

And people shall worship me by filling out forms

And I shall show my love for them with colourful stamps

And many requests for them to fill out more forms

And then I will ignore them for a while

Only to tell them they are overdue

And must pay a fine

And fill out even more forms

I think I have found my calling

Now all I need

Are worshipers

Please fill out this form

Is a race against Time

I don’t want to be spoil it

But…

Time wins

It is bad enough when people do it

But when animals do it to one another

It is downright despicable

I saw a documentary the other day

Of a pack of hyenas taking down a baby deer

A baby!

They ate it where it lay

A baby!

Where did they learn such cruel behaviour?

Did they watch too much T.V.?

Or play too many violent video games?

Or perhaps their parents were distant and demeaning?

But enough excuses

This violence must be stopped!

The hyenas must no longer catch and kill other animals

But instead learn to buy their meat at the grocery store

Like all civilised creatures

He stole icing off of cakes and milk right out of nipples

He stole glances others made, and bills as yet unpaid

And took them to the house he’d stolen just the other day

Then one night as he was sitting thinking other people’s thoughts

There was a bang upon the door, “Open up Jim, it’s the cops!”

But Jim he wasn’t worried, he simply stole their courage

Then he yelled boo at the policemen who then ran off in a hurry

I really want to keep them

But…

When I see someone take out their dentures

I think it’d be pretty cool

To just pop off part of your body

Like you’re a cyborg or something

Sometimes I feel like pulling my teeth out

So I wouldn’t be stuck with the same boring ones all the time

I could have fancy teeth for weddings

And sad teeth for funerals

And sassy teeth for samba class

I could have big teeth

Or small teeth

Or white teeth

Or satin teeth

Why would I want satin teeth?

I don’t know

But at least I’d have the option

And that’s what life is about

Options

And money

And doing better than the other guy

And the other guy may have good teeth

He may have great teeth

But he doesn’t have satin teeth

In meaningful trousers

And an upright shirt

There to bring efficiency

To an inefficient land

The people hated him

Which was fine

Because to him they were not people

How could they be?

In their unfocussed jeans

And floppy shirts

He fired them all

And replaced them with robots

Hard, dark, and not fond of unions

And when he was done

A robot replaced him

Which was fine

Because he had stock options

And a really great severance package