Performance Anxiety

I write: the tall grass is a third wish

then back away

from the field. If I move

back

far enough, everyone in the front row

will be still.

Be still—

you’re witnessing my first time.

A ballooning ballroom expanding

until the beat drops,

a letdown

letting you down gently

before the DJ jumps up, afraid to play

something that could offend.

I write: the tall grass is a third wish

and pray

for more wishes as the grasslands end.