Every gift you’ve ever received,
back in the original wrapping paper,
with the same tags,
1. I deleted number one. Wasn't much good.
2. Floating out at sea on an enormous piece of polystyrene.
The polystyrene has been cut into a profile picture of you.
Some of the lighter presents are sliding near the edge.
By your nose, and one by your chin.
3. Tilted with twigs, so they’re looking up at the moon and the stars.
I don’t know if there's a campfire nearby but I can hear a crackling.
Your gifts mull over the mysteries of the universe.
They think of you too.
They speak to each other:
"These stars are the same stars Napoleon once looked at."
"This moon is the same moon Jesus once looked at."
"And billions of little white mice."
"Countless captivated eyes."
"All looking at the same thing."
4. Gently massaged.
Until the paper comes off.
5. Balanced one on top of another and used as the new
silent/tall Queen of England.
Everybody loves her.
Every single human being.
People wonder what the top gift is.
The smallest gift you've ever been given.
6. In your bedroom, filling it absolutely entirely, waiting for you.
Spilling out into the hallway.
All completely yours.
Now you’re sat in a cinema next to me. I bought the tickets,
it’s a classy cinema it wasn’t cheap. But anyway it’s my treat,
since you’ve gone to the trouble of reading so much. Don’t
ask for any popcorn. Do not ask for popcorn. There is none.
Yes, I've got some. I brought it myself from home. Popped
it in my own pan. You can't have any. This is my dinner. I'm
serious. Honestly I’ve not eaten anything all day.
The film starts. It’s original footage you opening every single
one of your gifts over the years. Ten seconds per gift. It’s
obvious when you hate a gift. I mean really obvious. That’s
followed by another film of each gift being originally purchased/made.
Ten seconds per gift. Sunlight coming through the shop windows
lighting the hair of the person buying.
Posted by Michael Crowe at 7:01 PM