Writing on a Napkin in Buffalo Wild Wings
I can't speak very well.
Words get caught and cluttered in the middle of my brain and what comes out
doesn't quite say what I mean.
But damn, when I get a pencil
Shakespeare's got nothing on me.
I'm Picasso with words.
Silverstein leans over my shoulder, nods his head and says,
"Mmhmm, you got it!"
When I was fourteen I said to my mom
"I think I can do this."
She looked unsure, but there were two other kids to take care of and she thought
I would move on and forget.
I didn't forget.
Three years later I said
"I know it's expensive and three states away, but I want to do this."
Momma said
"Ok, lets try."
two years later I said
"Momma, I don't think I can do this."
she looked at me hard and said
"I know you can do this."
"But momma I'm scared."
"That's ok."
It takes nine hourse to drive
so I can learn how to write
the stories in my head down on paper for everyone to see
and a line that a friend of mine
wrote down in a poem for class
runs through my mind
'Poetry will make you shine! Poetry will make you shine! Poetry will make you shine!'
She was a poet.
I am a poet.
I wrote this on a napkin in Buffalo Wild Wings
While my sisters' softball team tried to see who can eat the spiciest wings
and my mom was sitting beside me reading over my shoulder.
I hope I make it.
I hope that when I type my name into google
the word 'Poet' pops up next to it.
Maybe, poetry will make me shine.