i sat in my room
alone, with the chatterbox blues
talking the day away
with my invisible friend
mother, passing the door asked
who you talking to?
norman, mama … just norman
of fat bearded white men
witches, ghouls, and goblins
and good intentions
fixed up in fantasy
but she would not know norman
for fear i might be touched
norman broke it, hid it, moved it
marked it, missed it, ate it, bent it, tossed it
he was a revolutionary soul who lived
to break every rule and bend belief
a mind mender for me
in the lost world of what is and what ain’t
norman lived like thread
stitching together the seams of everything
binding me in the absence
of healing hands
you gon’ stop sittin round here
talkin’ bout a damned norman
ain’t no normal children
talkin’ to invisible friends like a fool.
folks gon think you slow
now come on!
we got to get to the lord’s house.