Beijing Taxi

The morning it happened

I was in my bed

The Sun shone on my face

My skin was red

My mouth was dry

Just like a napkin

My bed was wet

From the night before

I poured myself

A cold glass of water

It tasted like a pair of jeans

So I went to the kitchen to refill my cup

Opened up the fridge

I couldn't find anything

But a lonesome slice of fresh white bread

It felt like a sign

Felt like that bread was mine

I put the bread in the toaster

I pushed the button and watched the walls of the toaster

Begin to glow like the fires in the fields Verdun in world war one

Felt like I was standing there in south west France 1914 with my hands on my gun

Bodies lying on the ground my neighbour’s house it had burned down

And all that remained

Was a toaster

I opened my eyes and the red Sun now shone black with smoke

No switch was functional and no appliance was worked in my favour

I was worried my neighbours had awoken through a war they had no part in

I rushed into the tree to sink a cone of wax

As so I could peer into the metal box I'd practically installed on the ceiling

Just inches from my peripheral view

I used a wooden chair to stand upon

I was shocked when I noticed

I'd shrunk to the size of a penny

And they glowed like the fires in the fields of the dune in world war one

Felt like I was standing there in south west France 1914 with my hands on my gun

Bodies lying on the ground, my neighbour’s house it had burned down and all that remained was a toaster

All that remained

Was a toaster

All that remained x5

Was a toaster