Friendly Friday Potluck's Ready!

A poem for the Friendlies

I thought I was alone in this world
But you posted a comment
That burst my black bandaid bagpipes
With a theological dissection of
The Battle of the Boyne and its role in the invention
Of English Toffee band hats.
Just when I was thinking
I was the only dolt who didn't know
The difference between
Cilantr
and
Cilantro
You sent cotton candy kazoos and butterfly kisses
And posted your photograph of a strawberry
That looked exactly like Robert Preston
Only a little less juicy
And you told me
YOU LOVE LUCY
Too
So I knew
I was not alone.

I imagined my existence as an Alaskan Wasteland
Ecologically unique, sure...
But who'd want to live there?
Then you linked my post about the crucifixion
And my theory that the Bowron Lakes
Are actually named for a Celtic drum
(partly because of the shape and partly because of the goats)
To your post about a song medley:
Babaloo, Seventy-Six Trombones, and Light My Fire
And the pivotal place these pieces played
In the dismantling of the Berlin Wall.
I don't know how to describe
The adrenalin rush
Of finding my
Bubbly fictitious ruminations seriously associated
With the work
Of the esteemed former Chancellor
Of Barbara Pepper University.
I mean, I practically had a
Vanilla fudge ripple wind chime moment
Right there in front of the french fries and hot chocolate
And I actually said (out loud)
"Yeah! that's me there. That's my life...YEAH!"

I thought I was blogging into the void
Hullabaloo-wanking to beat the oblivion band.
Sure, I knew
Jesus Christ wrote a song for everyone
But I was certain
My song had been done before
With more compelling references and a superior template.
I was a somebody to nobody
And a nobody to somebody
Who really didn't give two figs
Or one persimmon
(depending on the hemisphere)
So much that it hardly bothered me
That all I had in my flickr foldr
Was a picture of an empty paper bag.

Because of you
I'm re-writing my profile in the present tense.
I'm posting stream of consciousness
Who cares if it makes any sense?
You led me up the cyclone pathway
To the top of Blueberry Hill
Told me the secret of Sargent Pepper
Welcomed me to the Green Charlotte Islands
And licked the yellow sticky off all of my envelopes
Before I could seal myself up
To hide away from you.

You are my friends
My band of brothers
Salutation of sisters.
You put the flunder in Fridays
The scrabble in eggs
With the gs on a triple letter score.
All of those things that I thought before
Now I know they're not true.
But I don't take any of it for granted
Because it's once in a blue moon
That a person like me
Is blessed
To hang out on Fridays
With friendlies like you.


By and For my Friends of the Friendless Marching Band Brothers and Sisters
mompoet 2006