of people
for about twenty minutes
before i break down into
a cold sweat,
and then i have
to get out.
unless it's my house
and i've invited them all
over to eat and drink,
to dance and misbehave.
but a room full of
near strangers is death
to me.
the small talk. the nodding,
the politeness of it all.
nowhere to sit,
no way to get to a far
corner to stand in.
i search out the kitchen,
the back door to find
an exit or a waitress,
or a cook to talk to.
i get along so much better
with those that have
no skin in the game.
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