I hung an exhibition of stains and other dirty marks today; I had to dangle like a gibbon and drink tea (with an infinitely long straw) from an orbiting space station. The rockets fired from my burning hair were piloted by glove puppets that sang ancient ballads when hands were pushed inside.
It was a tiring day which I filled like a bag of confetti. For much of the time I was the gecko god firmly attached to the shop wall – my eyes flashing like pound signs. In the evening the “ultra-men” pulled out useless information from a drawer in my side.
I went back to the sunshine of my youth for a short while and spent the day how I pleased. Juno, my wife, was out in the morning holding a giant mouth apart as I jostled with plastic ornaments and pulled rope ladders out of wellington boots. She came in at noon with another person’s tonsils in a jar.
My wife and I had planned an expedition to a lost continent but ended up staying in our lost home. I washed the long strands of wild animal hair that randomly covered the lush vegetation of the imaginary garden. My clone, who is married to somebody else, scrubbed acres of flesh to remove the thorns.
My shadow and I went out to watch the sea draw lines on the sloping front. I pretended not to notice the thousands of strangely staring eyes protruding from the crumbling masonry. It was only when they blinked that we both thought of food, unfortunately the tide was out and we couldn’t find any.
After a brief trip to town to buy pebbles for our long pockets, June and I went out for a picnic. Poppy pulled a chariot full of archers round the perimeter of the Roman amphitheatre as I scrambled out of a rabbit hole and went to search for Goliath – I finally found him in David’s pocket.
I went out in the very early mist to the place where the tall masts of ships would rise above it. I discovered mathematical equations while gardening in the rain. Once home I drew the short straw and went out for a long walk.