Imposter Poem by Patti Masterman

The blanket in airy emptiness
Squeezes it's knobby not-knees together
In some vacuous semblance
Of dehydrated human form
Fooling people who enter the room
Into thinking it hides a living body-
A thin person, perhaps; given to bulimic fits
Wearing size 00 of sagging pants
In compassionate fugue, they stare rudely
In wonder that I could actually have a roommate
Till I shake out the folds
And pronounce it just a sham
At which point they laugh hysterically-
How did you know what I was thinking?