Daily Archives: April 8, 2012

The Imaginary Man (Afterword)

I was not exactly
what was ordered, so

I was imagined to be

I was imagined to be a good man,
good enough at least

to be loved a little here and there.
(Or, imagined to be a good enough fake good man

to be
fake-loved here and there.)

When all were done with me
(and all were done with me a long time

before the body was done with either
my real me or their imagined me)

I wondered, often,
if I’d stopped entirely —

it felt that way often enough.
Tony Brown, it seemed,

was too simple a name
in which to maintain belief for long.

But then I felt and now I feel a little real, though,
even now after the fact

that all have ended their
imagining.  Maybe I can be

an unimagined self, now —
fire, my fire, not anyone else’s hot air.

The Imaginary Man (Of Your Dreams)

Here in my cabin
luxury doesn’t have a lap
she’s dancing in beige velour
while cracking the eggs for breakfast

Here are my cabin
and luxury taking laps around it
as I am the cracked egg in beige
and crushed like dumb, suffering velvet

In an airplane cabin
trying to sleep in no luxury across three seats
This plane will never crash or land
It’s powered by surreal velour vapor

Cabin here: Whisky Tango Foxtrot
Luxury Minuet Eggs Benedict Arnold
Lapband Quickstep Scrambled Treason
Velour Armchair Waltz, over:

Roger that, Cabin

The Imaginary Man (Prelude)

Tony Brown is hereby declared
mostly imaginary!
This fat man is assigned a kindness rating
a humor rating
(medium-high),  an artist rating
(ooooh sarcasm for his impossible genius!)  

Tony Brown, our monkey
of longevity,
he of the incorrigible
to say the Big Stupid Obvious Maybe Wrong
But They’re TALKING…

Tony Brown,  curmudgeon
(though he despises the word and calls it biased
we know him SO WELL
we are laughing
that one off)  

and didn’t he paint a sort
of race thing on him too
that we can call upon
when convenient — or he can do it
not that we would  

Tony Brown is
Poet drudge
Linear trapper
Used To RockARoll
what kinda name is that anyway
TONYBROWN one phrase ripped out like a bad poot
Not thought about all that often really
unless our imagination takes
that turn for some reason

We then say
we’re better off for having known
the imaginary man