Visionary

My best friend Pat,
really flipped out
when served a piece
of cake with
mold in it.

This unsavory
discovery set off
a chain reaction
of voices in
her head.  Telling
her she was
no good,
echoing over
and over like
banging,
clanging on
garbage can
lids.

It embarassed
me, sometimes,
to have Pat
for a friend.
Those times when
her eyes, ominously
crossed at
birth, would light
up with an
unearthly
gleam.

But, all in
all, we were
co-conspirators,
like the ancient
Romans, giddily
plotting the
overthrow of
an Emperor
we would

never

see.