A Man Who Doesn’t Exist

A Man Who Doesn’t Exist
I saw a man who didn’t exist
Once walk
Across a narrow underpass.
His legs were slim but strong,
His mind clear and peripheral
His eyes warm in a chocolate fudge kind of way.
We had swum in the same gene pool,
Homologous creatures molded while still soft,
Our appearances strikingly similar during different eras.
I was the 4-pound-sugar-package-sized baby
That people looked at owl-eyed,
And he,
The thin college-kid forearm that held me.
And simply
Because reality always poisons what is purest,
He became a man that doesn’t exist.


6 kommenttia artikkeliin ”A Man Who Doesn’t Exist

  1. Hmm this has an weird, aluuring appeal to the absurd that I really likebso much. Simply because reality is not perfect, because the perfect somehow offends life… that's intriguing and insidious because it threatens to undermine so many cherished illusions. The nice thing about this piem is that, though the idea has been said before, you keep it together and say it so authentically, it's credible because it could indeed be the truth. This, even though the fantastic qualities of the story tell against it. Lovely irony.


  2. Such amazing closing lines.

    I mean the whole thing is great (imagery, structure, word choice) but the repetition from the first verse and the sheer wonderment of non existence. Nifty element of Buddhism there.

    Yeah, that's pretty great right there.



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