Jeebus
I am sitting on
the end of the couch,
where the pillows
have been arranged
to resemble a
recliner.
It’s my Holy of Holies.
Only it’s turning
into quicksand, as
I sink into a
tar pit of pity
for my underachieving
Self.
As I’m about to
go under,
there’s a bustling,
as my Imaginary Friend,
Jeebus,
appears.
(If you don’t have
an Imaginary Friend
I can hook you up.)
“Dude,” he says,
“this is beyond pathos.
I’m here for an
intervention.”
I’m surprised he
doesn’t tire of
this routine,
but he’s a gamer.
“I’ve got something
for you,” and
he pulls a little box
from his imaginary
pocket.
He pops it open
to reveal a tiny,
twinkly obelisk.
“This is designed
to broadcast
Magic Moments,”
he announces
in a magic moment
sort of incantation.
“Really,” I say,
rolling my eyes,
“that’s a clichè.”
“I could make it
more poetic, I
suppose,” he says,
rolling his eyes
right back at me.
“Do you like
‘ephemera?’”
“Whatever,” I sigh.
“Here’s the thing,”
he says,
“what’s magical
about it is,
for one moment
you can be
Who you want
to be, and,
if you like,
it will keep broadcasting,
one Magic Moment
at-a-time.”
And then he was
gone,
but the obelisk
remained.
If I pay attention,
maybe I can
get used to
living,
one Magic Moment
at-a-time.
That Jeebus
is such an
ephemera.
(Photo by Matt Palmer; UnSplash)
