The World of Make-Believe

Aaron and I used to play school in the winter. My room was the classroom and I was in charge of reading, writing and arithematic; Aaron's room, right next door, was the gym, or the cafeteria, or the music room, whatever we needed at the time. We carried armfuls of stuffed animals between the two rooms, plopped them down and lined them up in rows before singing out a bell and gathering the giraffes and the dogs up again and carrying them back again.

The intellegence says that kids learn to be adults through play. Our make-believe school was practice for the 9 to 5 work world. On the other hand, now that I am grown I play at my job and I wonder, do you do the same? Is it a fantastic grown-up version of make-believe? And is that why I'm still in love with the little nuances of life -- the visits to the grocery store, the paying of bills, the sales meetings -- why? because it is not surrounded by the limits of Simon Says but still full of the possibilities of the world of make-believe.

The Bellybutton

Clean me out every month
because
before I shrivelled up
,introverted
,demured
you forget I was a gateway
to life
supplying nutrients, sustenance
while she read good night, moon, to her belly
while he pressed his head against, pressed his lips to her bellybutton
,to you

before I was cut short I was
maybe even a tunnel for love