IMAGINARY

Gucko I still see, mostly for coffee
But sometimes for a beer or two.
Fufu, my brother Jean's other imaginary friend
I haven't seen in years. He was always
An elusive sort and contrary. Jean
Inherited him from a friend. I was jealous,
Having then only an imaginary fire truck
And a totem animal, a solemn bear
Who spoke without contractions.
Gucko gave sound advice given his age
Which was about four and a half; Fufu,
Even then, was no one you'd want
To meet beneath a moonless sky.

NIGIDIUS FIGULUS

Where did I miss my turning?

Two thousand years from now

Who will say of me, “A grammarian,

A naturalist and a theologian,

He was also an astrologer

And magician and, on occasion,

A wonder worker?”

Thus the scholar Franz Cumont

Pricks at my conscience.

Really, could I not somehow work

An occasional wonder?

No. Worse, I have no answer

When my 3 year old self asks

“Why aren’t you a fire truck?”