Mr. White Steampunk J. Rabbit at your service,
the distinguished guest said.
I offered to park his gear decorated top hat
from his lovely two-eared head.
But he was in no hurry to get rid of his hat,
an enormous asset to his costume.
I would like to introduce myself wisely,
he said, as he entered my living room.
The children were astounded,
their eyes were falling onto the carpeted floor.
I had to push them back into their sockets,
and induce them to tolerate galore.
Is he the Easter Bunny? The youngest asked,
her voice full of Easter hope.
Of course not, you moron.
Why are you always such an incredible dope?
I had to remind my father who had dementia to use his kind words.
Mr. White Steampunk J. Rabbit kindly acted like he had not heard.
He taught us to play poker, Texas hold’em, bridge, hearts and gin.
We had so much fun that day, I am not sure where to begin.
When we show the photo, people roll their eyes in disbelief.
They do not believe he was there. In some ways this is a relief.
For if they knew how crazy my family was, we’d all be taken away.
Because if there is one thing we know how to do, it is to imagine and play.
Categories:
two eared, animal,
Form: Prose Poetry