Billboards

"Why are billboards so large?" The boy asks.

"Because we don't remember the small things." The father replies.

"But I remember ants... they're small things, right?"

"I guess. Do you think ants remember you?"

"I'm a giant to them; they should remember." 

"You're a colossus to them son. So tall, that they won't ever grasp who, or what, you are."

"But I'm small compared to you Dad."

"You're bigger than all the worlds combined, and smaller than the ant you remembered."

The boy nods.

"I don't understand..."

"Use your imagination, son."

And they continued standing there, 
outside Taunton train station at half two in the morning,
waiting for a train that will never come,
next to those towering billboards,
deliberately within their blind-spot.

Bill Hicks springs from a bush      sets fire to the advertisements.
He pisses on the train tracks and runs away,
yelling
Shakespeare.