My point is
that Christmas trees are pointy
and Santa hats
and presents with pointy corners cover the earth
and if you get no presents people point and stare
and their point is that people with pointy heads shouldn’t be allowed outside
My point is
that a point defines an object
fixes it in time and space so it cannot move around
and when you point at me you fix me so tightly
I must leave myself behind if I want to go on moving
My point is
that I can’t think in straight lines
my mind wanders like a gypsy
playing the fiddle and maybe ‘borrowing’ a bit now and then
and you may try to tie me up in lines
like a nice organized birthday present
but I will ooze out the sides like the monster from the black lagoon
or a mud pie
You say I’ll never make it?
You say I’ll be lost in a linear world?
You say I’m delusional, my dreams are stupid, and the world will blow up soon anyhow?
In that case, what’s the point in anything?