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