Cartoon Guns

My Sophist self hardly entertains the idea of air and space is too immense, to damn big to occupy. I project myself into the world, meet a friend for coffee, pass by a parking meter, perplexed. This is not enough to make me real. My cartoon self moves about in the world looking for a story line, intrigue, danger, guns, sophisticated high tech guns. I cock them all at once and fire, the sound is immense in frame, filling up space, finally, with something colorful, real, but only in this world of cartoons searching for the next line, a scene, a full frame, sophisticated meaning with cartoon guns.