Infinity

We sit in the kitchen

Me in me trackies and him in his Colman’s coloured corduroy trousers

An he says to me, Vinny it’s all about infinity

Ah gan aw fuck this here we go again an he says

Nah mate, listen

Fittingly he can talk forever about it

An ah kna if I let him get going I’ll never hear the end of it

So I interrupt with what is, to me, a more important issue

Namely, what are you gonna do with all them lasses hanging about you?

And he gives me the same answer that he’s always given me before except he always manages to say the same thing in the same way but just different enough to make me understand infinity more in that moment than I ever did before

Except what he says and what I know about infinity are both paradoxically, nothing

Yeah I know that’s a weak paradox but don’t get me fucking started on them

Back in the kitchen I’ve enlisted the aid of another housemate to hold him down while I cut his arm with a blade, to check if the blood running through his veins is red

I mean what if he got replaced and I’m talking to some Vulcan instead

See you cannit see his ears cos of all the hair on his head

So I said look, you’re a bohemian (Dirty Fucking Hipster)

Arty student which down here makes you like Adonis

But he says look mate if I’m honest I just don’t really care

And in that moment I understand

It was for that exact reason that all the lasses were there

I mean it couldn’t be the trousers and alright it might be the hair

So lets you and me go get or a drink or like whatever cos I don’t really care