I visited Unreality and met Gary Johnston, a fictional character.
In his spare time, Gary Johnston is a 23rd Century surrealist poet. He has published poetry in other dimensions, including The Twilight Zone, but never in this dimension.
“Gary,” I asked, “why don’t you publish your poetry in this dimension?”
“Because,” he said, “it is only the 21st Century.”
His answer made sense.
We are going to have to wait until the 23rd Century before we can buy Gary Johnston’s books of surrealist poetry. But he permitted me to print a few of his poems:
If today was tomorrow,
Today would be yesterday.
How Do I Love Thee?
How do I love thee?
Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my clocks can melt.
I love thee to the high level of human stupidity.
I love the freely the way men wearing overcoats and bowler hats float in the sky.
I love the purely like porridge in a pot thinking itself a virgin.
I love thee with more passion than a mosquito on a crowded beach.
I love thee with a love above a buv, and I do not know what a “buv” is.
I shall love thee better when I do not know thee.
Drawrof is “forward” spelled backward.
Fish always swim in water.
Life is like that.
Two roads diverged in a buv wood.
(And I still do not know what a “buv” is.)
I have a split personality.
I took both roads,
And that has made all the difference.
As a 23rd Century surrealist poet, Gary Johnston knows that he is ahead of his time. He also knows that he is a fictional character, and he believes in The Writer.
Gary Johnston does not believe in Reality. “There is no proof,” he said, “that Reality exists.”
Then he said, “Always leave your more wanting audience,” and he disappeared. I suspect that his disappearance meant that our visit was over.