You were screaming
at an imaginary friend
who was screwing
your imaginary woman,
as the insects on the floor
cleaned the garbage
I got down to business.
“To define the purpose
of our existence…”
The floor parted
sending my audience
into the depths of
oblivion.
“Come back! Come back!”
I shouted in vain,
“I was only joking,
I was really going to
talk about girls!”
I was left alone
as the sun crept
through the window
revealing
broken bottles,
ashes on the floor,
I sighed to
the depths
of my soul
and picked up a
dead cockroach
death, you sly bastard,
you make me feel alive.
Notes
- A sibling to The Hated Uncles’ “Imaginary Friend” – who even makes an appearance!
- …or does he?
Written: 1990