A friend at work gave me this poem today. She thought I would like it and I did.
Paper Clip Guy
Yesterday I fell out of a dream and onto my floor.
My god…I thought…I really need to vacuum.
You know that little guy?
That looks like a paper clip and always pops up on your computer to politely offer his assistance in reformatting word documents and does little dances and shit when you ignore him for long enough?
Well who is he?
And does he just help you format word articles…or does he also do some vacuuming on the side?
I ate an omelet for breakfast and it reminded me of all of the omelets I’ve eaten in the past and then it reminded me of all the omelets I’ll eat in the future and then it reminded me of the future and that is always scary.
I’ll be eating omelets forever at this rate and Jesus…that’s a lot of fucking omelets.
Which means that’s a whole lot of eggs.
Which means that’s a whole lot of chickens
Which have to be raised by a whole lot of farmers.
A whole lot of farmers raising a whole lot of chickens to make a whole lot of eggs to feed a whole lot of people who…like me…have a special affect for omelets.
Especially in the morning.
Me? I’m just another consumer of omelets made with eggs made by chickens raised by people who make money so they too can eat omelets for breakfast now and forever.
When you think about that.
It seems that I’m that little guy…that looks like a paper clip…politely offering assistance in omelet consuming and perhaps on the side.
A little vacuuming.