COSMO KRAMER.

Cosmo Kramer.

No job. No income. No visible means of support.
Somehow always eating. Always scheming. Always three steps ahead
of a plan that makes no sense until it's already working.

The coffee table book about coffee tables
that folds out into a coffee table.
That is not a joke. That is a product.
That is the kind of thinking that makes VCs cry.

The pizzeria where you make your own pie.
The male bra — the Bro. The Mansiere.
The levels — the restaurant with the levels.
Every single idea was insane and completely correct.

He lived across the hall from Jerry for nine seasons
and never once had a plan that failed on its own terms.
The plan always worked. The world just wasn't ready.

The hair. The shirt. The physique.
The man dressed like someone who invented fashion
and then forgot he invented it.

New York City. The apartment. The sliding door.
The field plays the Seinfeld bass riff and goes quiet.
Cosmo enters. The field agrees.
That is the highest review we give.