poetry meet up

bored with yourself,
with the day in
and day out of life.
work, sleep,
eat. the dreadful
pattern
of a human gerbil
on a squeaky wheel,
you google
poetry workshops.
maybe there's
a place you can go
on a cold Tuesday night
to shoot the breeze
with fellow aspiring
writers.
maybe you can read
from your voluminous
collection of poetry
and have them
applaud what
you've written,
praise you as a
genius and worship
the ground you walk
on. they will want
to touch your sleeve,
to share
the air you
breathe. they will be
happy just being
in your presence.
they will bite their
nails and long for
the next meet up
to see what you've
created. basically
you want to find
an all about me work
shop, but sadly,
there doesn't seem
to be any.
at some point you'll
have to read
and comment on what
they too have
written. you'll have
to be constructive
with your criticism,
be polite and nice,
and lie a little.
you'll have to polish
their apples full
of worms while tapping
your foot, waiting
for your next
turn. the horror.