Sometimes she brought with her imaginary friend
As company during stressful situations
Straddling reality and fancy
A comfort for one always alone
He a rock star
She his rock
Functional method to counteract
The outside world’s overwhelming bombardment
As if Jackson Pollock floated in the sky
Employing his drip style technique
Splashing paint splotches on her
Pounding head and worried eyes
A soothing way to shop at Walmart
Or patiently wait in traffic while driving
They’d converse, in her mind
She wouldn’t gesture or move her lips
Always being aware
It was a comforting fantasy
Perhaps a replacement for cigarettes
Once gloriously inhaled
One twilight she won tickets to see the real rocker
She went alone, first row center
Fantasy man, holding her hand
Sitting in the imaginary seat between her
And the real stranger on the aisle
Suddenly, there he was
Flesh, blood, sweat and swinging long hair
And the world darkened
Suddenly flung her through a tunnel
Flashing stars seen at a great distance
Her head under attack
As if her mother’s purse
Of JFK half dollars
Was opened and the coins
Rained upon her
And the world crumpled
Forcing her imaginary friend to vanish
The doppelganger legend so true
He died when he saw his double
Although the real deal didn’t see him
And continued to rock on
And she didn’t know what to do…
© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Dante Gabriel Rossetti, How They Met
