By Edward J. Calhoon Sr., 2000
(Published
in the Spring 2000 edition of Amaranth,
Anne Arundel
Community College, Arnold, MD)
Crazy
I am not.
Imposters
invaded and replaced
each
and every one of you.
My
imposter husband
is
really a gigolo in disguise;
a
male prostitute.
My
real oldest son ran away;
you
are too big to be my son.
My
real daughter is being held hostage,
under
the next-door neighbor’s porch.
My
enemies become invisible,
by
covering themselves with ectoplasm.
They
are plotting to steal our property
by
forcing me to sign this oil-drilling lease,
and
that mortgage loan application.
I
see the Devil’s Demons at night,
but
they can’t hurt me
because
I am the Holy Ghost.
I
hear voices telling me to take this knife
and
free my daughter.
The
policemen are part of the plot;
they
are taking me back to the loony bin,
to
torture me with electric shocks,
and
tear out part of my brain
if
necessary to shut me up.
It
is all very clear.