[A poem about social anxiety] Please. They’re sitting in a circle, ‘way most communal meals are taken. All smiling, I’m smiling. My eyes blindly trail their conversation as it wraps its way around the table and makes its path in my direction. As it winds toward me, the girl next to me, bubbly, jumps in….


A poem about imminent mania.  Provoke[d] Summoned by you, quietly, gently. Gathered by you, though I can see you now. Beckoned to negotiate the terms of my provocation. To say yes, and relent to the maniacal delusions entering, filtered, into my brain. And then spewed forth like a dam broken. Unable to stopper it, unequivocally…