A beautiful coffee table book filled with sizzling, high-quality
photographs of billboards from the seventh of August.
A wedding ring made from forty seven twist-ties from
forty seven bags of sliced oat bread.
A large, full-featured remote control which only turns on a box
that allows electricity to pass from the power strip to the television.
A light that is too bright for the night
and too white for the day.
An audiobook in which the narrator
reads Life and Fate silently to himself.
Paint that never dries.
A clock with numbers where the hands go
and hands where the numbers stay.
A couch with three brains, four paws,
and one poop that hasn't happened yet.
A logical fallacy masquerading as a puzzle.
A puzzle whose answers are all nonsense.
A solution to that which is not a problem.
An organization filled with unrelated parts.
A paradox that dreams of mysteries
and spends its days flipping through
a coffee table book of billboards.
Roman Ryan 