Nothing

Nothing Two o`clock this Wednesday afternoon protected by high walls the sun is too hot I will have to wait till three before going back out sit for half an hour getting a tan, my vanity knows no limit. I do not want to write today weaning myself of this feverish drug this internal conversation argumentative as an old Jew I once knew in Leeds. I will think of nothing but sadly fail to stop this stream of lava bubbling from its crater the smell sulphur of rejected thoughts that will one day prove me wrong and plants shall grow. But I stray from the subject thinking of nothing, what is it like? since it can`t have any shape, form, smell or colour. Get up from my chair in the sun too quickly collide with the door and fall unconscious into a void, so know I know that nothing looks like nothing.