Talking to my imaginary friend about feeling sad

Sammi LaBue

Tried everything short of quitting
to feel that certain wash of inspiration:
syphoned a good joke and even a lousy one into my veins for a bit of pep,
crawled into a hard memory and kept my eyes open to dream it again,
then xeroxed a picture of my heart to God, but he only responded: "Image fuzzy."

The potatoes sang like an alarm clock.
Have you ever heard sweet potatoes sing when they come out
of the oven on a cold day—the first snow day even?
The first snow in this house and the first anything since
The Bad News—the kind with all caps.

I’m running out of room in my locket for faces.
The hinge is stiff like a brand-new Bible
I’ve been too afraid to crack the spine on.
Because I already know the answer to this wish.
Maybe I’ll feel like wishing tomorrow
When the snow melts from the sidewalk and I’m less vulnerable to magic.

Wanting’s easier than wishing.
I want a puppy. I want a sandwich. I want that back.
See?
I want to buy a wedding dress for you to wear to breakfast.
I want to see you fold its tissue fluff into your lap like you’re buckling into a cloud.
And afterwards you can change, and we’ll leave it someplace—
On a subway seat maybe, or at an old folks’ home—
For someone else to put on to celebrate nothing.

Afterall, the hot potatoes are singing in the pan and
Everyone knows the words to this song and
We have easy names for hard things like funny bone and karate and grief.

Let’s get married for the day just for something to toast to,
Because the wait might be long and the eggs might get cold and mom called to cry again,
But if I could have you as my bride for just today
That could be worth the twelve-dollar omelet, and the tip
Plus half a smile I toss on the table.

A Brooklyn-based writer and educator, Sammi LaBue is the author of the creative writer’s guided journal, Words in Progress (DK 2020) and the founder of Fledgling Writing Workshops (Timeout NY’s Best NYC Writing Classes 2019). She earned her MFA from the Vermont College of Fine Arts and has recently completed a dual memoir written in collaboration with her mother. Her poetry and essays have appeared in Literary Hub, Glamour, Hunger Mountain, Hobart, Sonora Review, Arts and Letters, and elsewhere. Read more at sammilabue.com.