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