Far back in the day, when I was no more than a strapping young lad in high school, my family got caught up in the Magnetic Poetry fad. For those of you who have been blessed and have forgotten this particularly insipid little fad, it involved many words printed on small magnets that you could then place on your refrigerator (in our case, a flat radiator) and then arrange the words as you saw fit. As is human nature, most of illuminating sonnets that were produced consisted of nothing more than dirty phrases about "boobs" and various bodily functions. Occasionally someone would be struck by the pretentiousness virus and try to put up something deep and meaningful, but thankfully that was a rare occasion.
Luckily, as it always is with such gimmicks, our interest waned. We left the magnets on the radiator because frankly, we couldn't be arsed to take them down. My mother started using them to hold several of her favorite pictures in place. The majority were severely pixelated print outs of our dog. One day I came back to my parents house, was surprised to find it had all disappeared. Magnets and pictures seemed to have evaporated. Only one word seemed to have survived this mysterious purge. Now, every time I walk past it I can't help but think that the cosmos is somehow trying to tell me something.
I also grin.
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