EULOGY OF NOTHING
The mould on the bread is green.
It matches the color of my bedroom walls; pale icelandish.
For days I watched on as the busy bacterium spread over the surreal white surface
Burrowing, growing, eating, devouring piece by piece until there was nothing
I search for nothing in my mind
It is not there
Where could this concept be housed; A house of nothing?
Everything is something, something cannot be nothing.
But nothing is something.
The bread is gone now.
Never it was nothing, forever it will be something
Splendid showers of glory lay in its wake