Well, I just went to my first poetry reading…and I read! I did the Haiku for 11,000 piece (the bees). It was absolutely horrifying, but now that’s done and I never have to do my first poetry reading again.
With Thanks to Fred and Olivia
It’s just words, right?
I mean, the same words I speak with every day,
Just arranged with a bit more care.
So why can’t I say them to you
Without my throat threatening to close,
Without hearing my voice shake, dammit,
Without wanting to jump up and run out of the building
(As if I would leave my iced coffee behind!).
It’s just words, but
Seriously, have I lost my mind?
What possessed me to think I should sit in the same room
With real poets, reading real poems,
Sharing meaningful verse
Without their voices shaking?
What am I doing up here, anyway?
Is this because I turned 50?
And those were just words about bees!
Imagine what will happen if I try
Sharing words about love or joy or pain
Or god forbid sex.
But wait… I think I just told you I was afraid.