silence
the silence that permeates the front room before the poet speaks
and there is that one silent nervous cough as they refuse to look around
refusing to acknowledge the fact they are reading their poetry before an audience
i ask myself one thing before they start
is it better to take the mic and read yr own bad poetry or some other's bad poetry
if it is yrs at least it means something to you and you could be blind to yr own lack of ability
yet if it is someone elses, yr showing not a lack of ability however a lack of taste
one more nervous rustling of pages before the poet speaks
the poet behind the mic, reverberating off the walls, reads only one poem
and with this one poem i feel only one thing
i am reminded of only one thing
i think only one thing
never write, at least, never read a poem whose first line is one word
especially if that one word is silence
