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Patrick Lawler Writes About "Patrick Lawler"

First, Patrick Lawler would never write
a poem called "Patrick Lawler."
That's the first thing. The first clue.
And there's others.
I mean, he wouldn't be that pretentious.
That self obsessed. Self-absorbed. Narcissistic.

The person who says he is Patrick Lawler
does things that Patrick Lawler would never do.

I warn you.
The Patrick Lawler you know is an impostor.
The body that surrounds him
is his, but the insides are not.

The real Patrick Lawler, the one who does not
reside in quotation marks, is being held hostage.
Somewhere. I can assure you there will be
elegantly written ransom notes
with onomatopoeia and subtle internal rhyme.

Remember the Patrick Lawler
who was a ventriloquist.
Remember the Patrick Lawler who stuttered.

Oh, sure, in retrospect, it's easy to see
how we made the mistake. The fake Patrick Lawlers
looked so much like the real thing. Even better.
They carried a stain of authenticity.

Remember when they had the Win-a-Night-with-
Patrick-Lawler Contest. That was a fake Patrick Lawler.

At one time or another, we've all been fooled.

I must admit I myself have been accused of being
a Patrick Lawler impersonator.

I wish he had done something
remarkable or even remarkably mediocre
so there would be more demand for him.
It's hard to justify the attention.

At the Patrick Lawler Impersonator Convention,
they usually complain about the absence of work.
They hate to admit it but sometimes they
think that there are just too many of them.
When they look at all the name tags, it makes them queasy.

Then there is the rumor that Patrick Lawler
has given up being Patrick Lawler.

Here's the evidence: If Patrick Lawler
did not want to be Patrick Lawler,
then why would he write a poem titled "Patrick Lawler"?

Remember the Patrick Lawler Anonymous meetings?
Remember the Patrick Lawler who had lead eyes?
Remember the Patrick Lawler who tried to use
crutches for wings? It was as if someone were holding him
underwater. He forgot he had eyes.

The real Patrick Lawler's life became dependent
on the Patrick Lawler impersonators.
They began to live his life in more meaningful
ways than he himself had ever lived it.

There was no single, solitary, existential, autonomous
Patrick Lawler. Like emergent properties. Like birds.
Like weather. Like a collection of hats. Consciousness
of the whole was more important than the single self.

You always know if it is him because he stands in front of you-
sometimes silvery, sometimes in slow motion-
and he tries to convince you as if it is the most
significant fact he can possibly share with you.

"This 'person' in front of you," he says, "is not Patrick Lawler."