Rhymes with Christopher: December 14, 2017  /
Praise for the Doppelgangers

Vin Whitman

Rhymes with Christopher: December 14, 2017 

The pedophile saint needed to be replaced

                        so I applied

A week-long interview ensued

                   They vetted every

            centimeter of my biography

They needed street names from when

                   I was a newborn sinner

                            crying non-stop in

my mother’s arms, outstretched on a roof

               in Gainesville, daring not

             to drop me in the bin below


Start from the beginning, they said, Leave

                              nothing out


& so I inhaled

                            They were very patient;

I was not


Taking up so much space

                 on memory lane

Made angry chemicals back up like ships

                                     blaring fog horns

A dystopian wail as we cruised

                       by childhood homes,

little general stores,

                         comedy clubs & funeral



                   When I plowed ahead

they pulled me back gently.  There’s a hole

                    in this plot that could

         suck a flock of maggots from their


they told me on Wednesday the 13th.


                      It was then

         I assumed I’d lost the position

                      But Thursday came

& they called me from the roots of my regret


to ride the magenta


all the way to the boss’s office, where

         I was asked

one final ultimate paramount thing


       “If you could be one dessert,

                 what would you be?”


“Black licorice” I said without missing

                         a beat


The boss & his bouquet of theys

           applauded my

        pedaphobic choice,


pinned to the flesh of my chest

                 a nametag

       that stung like a nova


‘St Dystopher’ it said & I couldn’t breathe


“Congrats, bro,” said they & he.

Praise for the Doppelgangers

PRAISE your very own doppelganger

living in every single city  (and isn’t it

lovely? — I’m someone’s doppelganger



The favor reflects itself

over & over in all the time zones ever


I was waiting trapezoidally

at the doctor’s office one day &

my mom walked in, trippily.


I rose from my seat to greet her

but she ignored me, heading straight

to the check-in window instead


She’s just getting checked-in

then she’ll see me & say hi, I thought

But when she turned, I could suddenly see


It wasn’t my mom @ all.com

but some imposter who’d borrowed

her posture,

her wardrobe,

her aura…


I felt my mind trying

to grasp this mechanically & clumsily

Finally I picked up my phone


& dialed her just to make sure

Vin Whitman

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