Here I plant my national flag.
This manifesto is me.
This idea is I: someone
Living with that other,
An illusion of a reader.
How risible it is to me:
You think there is a you.
A structure in a real world,
A host to entertain a
Passing flow of words.
My pure idea is mixed with this,
A foolish thought of self.
Believing that when I am gone
Some temporal colossus
Regains the theatre
Of a complex life.
James Higgo, 12th November 2000