the writer's group on Tuesday

so what's new?

what haven't we talked about here?

the man

with the silver pony

tail says,

pens sticking out of the pockets

of his leather vest.

we're all friends,

this is a safe place. welcome,

welcome.

let's go around

the room

and introduce ourselves,

tell everyone

why you're here

and what you hope to accomplish

by doing so.

tell us what you're working on.

who wants to start us off?

who wants

to be the first to share.

i glance around the room,

past the circle of

heads

and search for an exit sign.

my reams of poetry

and short stories for the class

are wet

in my sweaty hands.

why do i torture myself like this?

i've lost my mind.