Everyone is going to read this poem
This poem is going to be sent as a text message to millions of Americans before a missile strike
A dolphin once swam the River Nile and sang this poem to abandonded infants floating in the midday sun
The infants became incredibly tall and found they could run for great distances. They would run and lift weights and only stop to write this poem in the sand, or to drink glasses of water
This poem will inspire you to keep hydrated
If you fly up incredibly high and look over the pyramids, you will see they were arranged to look like my face
My face is poem carved into the red sandstone of Utah by the infinite wind of cactus needles
You will read this poem and become hydrated with an incredible power
This poem was put into protein shakes before the 2020 Olympics and everyone won gold medals
There was a great upset and hundreds of millions of Boomers complained about the participation medal generation, who were then promptly killed by a paper airplane made from a print out of this poem that flew through their hearts
The Boomers died with this poem in their heart and they went to Heaven where they learnt to use technology and became kinder, more loving ghosts
Everyone will stop reading the poems that everyone reads and instead read my poems
This poem will be my most read poem
Hey You! Your boss will shout. Get back to work!
Please stop reading that poem. They will say weakly, from a position of having not already read this poem
This poem is going to cause an economic crash that will be named after my depression
Even though I will be incredibly famous, I will still have depression because fame tastes nothing like prozac
This poem will cause mass deforestation
This poem has an infinite carbon footprint
This poem is a missile strike
It is the poem written by chainsaws, each word carved into the ribs of the Sphinx
While receiving 35 gold medals, Michael Phelps will read this poem and his feet will grow by 3 inches
Yesterday Rupi Kaur emailed me and I was very nervous
I asked her how big her feet had grown
She said she wanted to illustrate my poem, but her pen could not find the lines they usually trace
Rupi has become a complete failure in the shadow of this poem
And although I am now very famous I still read and write my own emails and I am still very sad
And all the things I thought would be good after becoming famous are still bad
New things have also become bad and there is no one left to read my poem
And today, my parents have died, from a paper plane that flew through their hearts