Performance anxiety

I’m not the first to say that poetry is like sex

And I’ll admit I’m not the best

Judge of what constitutes good

But when I watch other poets perform

I can hear the silent roar of the crowd

The gathering storm that’s building up and up and up

And maybe I should start to give a fuck

But then my poem is done

It had a good run

For all of thirty seconds

Two minutes tops if I

Slow it

Right

Down

And prepare a bit of banter just before the show

But it’s only recently that I started to really write poetry

I’m sure with practice I’ll craft a six minute flow easily

Unless you’re like me and you like short poetry

With sharp explosive bursts

Instead of never ending imagery

The sort of poem that just goes on and on and on

Which isn’t bad but wasn’t what you were expecting

So you’re working out a shopping list or just mentally texting

No this is a poem with a fucking climax

Take as and when needed to help you relax