Day 28: Lobject’s Imaginary Friend

Thanks to Dr. Suess for my inspiration. :-)

You’ve got it all

wrong

I’m not Doc

I’m not Doc
Doc I’m not

That Doc I’m not
That Doc I’m not!
I’m not him
that Doc I’m not

Do you like
to build with blocks?
I do not like to
Doc I’m not.
I do not like
to build with blocks.

Would you like them
on the floor?

Would you like them

in a store?

I would not like them
on the floor
I would not like them
in a store.
I do not like
to build with blocks
I do not like them,
Doc I’m not

Would you like to build
a house?
Would you like to build
with a mouse?

I do not want to build
a house.
I do not want to build
with a mouse.
I do not like blocks

on the floor
I do not like them
in the store.
I do not like to build with blocks

I do not like them, Doc I’m not.

Would you play with them
in a box?
Would you play with them
with a fox?

Not in a box.
Not with a fox.
Not to build a house.
Not to build with a mouse.
I would not play with them on the floor.

I would not play with them in a store.
I would not like to play with blocks.
I do not like them, Doc I’m not.

Would you? Could you?
build on a dock?
Come now! Play!
Here, have some blocks.

I would not,
could not,
on a dock.

You may like to throw blocks.
You will see.
You may like to throw blocks
from a tree?
I would not, could not throw from tree.
Nor play on the dock! You let me be.

I do not like blocks on the floor
I do not like blocks in a store
I do not want to build a house
I do not want to build with a mouse
I do not like to build with blocks
I do not like them, Doc I’m not.

The park! The park!
The park! The park!
Could you, would you
in the park?

Not in the park! Not in a tree!
Not on the floor! Doc! Let me be!
I would not, could not, on the floor.
I could not, would not, in the store.
I will not build with a mouse
I will not build blocks into a house.
I do not like blocks, Doc I’m not.

You do not like
to build with blocks?

I do not
like them,
Doc I’m not.

Could you, would you,
build with a goat?

I would not,
could not.
with a goat!

Would you, could you,
build on a boat?

I could not, would not, on a boat.
I would not, will not, with a goat.
Not on a dock! Not in a tree!
Not in a park! You let me be!
I do not play with blocks in a box
I do not play with blocks with a fox
I will not build blocks into a house.
I do not build blocks with a mouse.

I do not like

to build

with blocks!

I do not like them,
Doc I’m not.

You do not like blocks
SO you say.
Have some! Build! Play!
And you may.
Try to build and you may sway.

If you will let me be,
I will try them.
You will see.

Say!

I am not your friend Doc.

We must wear the name socks.

Clearly!

Doc likes to play with blocks!
I’m sure! He likes to build on the floor!
And he would play with them in a store!
And he would build a house ...
And he would build it with a mouse
And in the park. And on the dock.

And in a tree.
Doc loves to build I’m sure I see.

So please go find Doc.

Doc will play with blocks in a box.
And he will play with them with a fox.
And he will build them into a house.
And he will build with a mouse.

That Doc I’m not
That Doc I’m not!
I’s sorry but
that Doc I’m not

Day 13: Dobject's Imaginary Friend

Sometimes

I like to imagine someone I know

is in my head

seeing

what I’m seeing

hearing

what I’m hearing

smelling

what I’m smelling

knowing

what I’m thinking.

Maybe I’ll be driving,

eating lunch,

dressing myself,

or rolling over in bed,

and I will suddenly know

someone has stepped in my head

to poke around

for a few moments

like at a roadside attraction.

I like to seem

interesting,

admirable,

laughable,

memorable,

anything but

dull or bland—

If you caught me

brushing my teeth

taking out the trash

or sewing my pants,

I loop a catchy song

in my head

like in an supermarket,

or think some pithy thought

to make you think.

How does the informatics

of the N+7 constructivism

affect our literary undersurface

of post-colonial American

Real Time, and how may one-sidedness

compare it to the theocrats

found in Hellenic Greenbackers?

When I’ve forgotten

you popped in

or didn’t see you walk out,

bored with my every day

bulling around,

I slouch again,

and resume

biting my nails

and hope no one else is window shopping.

Day 10: Pobject's Imaginary Friend

You’ve been on my mind a lot these days,
living in this postpostracial paradise
where a nonwhite man can be President
as long as he’s as devious and deceitful
as any white man who’s come before him.

I’m working my way to DICdom and wondering
why we can’t seem to find a critical mass?
After twenty-plus years of hand-wringing
and navel-gazing, you’d think we’d ask
someone who looks like you, my
transblackfemale oracular friend.

I ask my ciswhitemale self these things,
but my cis and my white and my male
keep getting in the way.
                                       
                                        I need
your Latino-Ladino-Southeast-Asian-
American-differently-abled-
libertarian-first-generation-
hearing-impaired-left-handed-brown-black-
LGBTQIA
answer key.

                    Can I borrow it?
I don’t need to peek at every line,
I just want a hint.

What comes next?

Day 8: Imaginary Friend

Dear imaginary friend,

Thank you for the card you sent in the mail.  I did receive it. 

But I must say, up front, I am not interested in your friendship.  I’m not sure you were offering friendship, and I am actually not sure you have the ability to offer true friendship... All you wrote in the card was “Coffee?” 

I feel like I have known you forever.  We played together in shoreline summers, dancing in the water and waves.  Toasting New Years with plastic champagne glasses filled with sparkling cider.  Giggling under the dinning room table at country club dinners as parents chattered above.  Building houses in the trees and forts in the woods.  We had fun.  Made great memories.  And for that I am grateful.

But we are not kids anymore.  We have had to face some truths and events we never could have imagined.  During those times, I wondered where you were.  I even went out to that magnolia in my mom’s backyard, sat on one of its limbs, and hoped you would appear.  I had hoped you would pause to consider my perspective. 

Silly me!  Why would I expect someone who is not real to understand or empathize?  I take responsibility for that confusion and childhood hope. 

All of that aside, I must still say no thank you to your request.

I don’t even drink coffee.