Incalculable
“Don’t be so nervous next time,”
the teacher said after my sixth-grade speech,
where I wasn’t nervous at all.
Now I can’t speak
in front of people
without wondering
what they’re seeing.
Someday I’ll track her down,
and slap her silly with my sweaty palms.
She’s probably an old lady now,
dispensing much better counsel,
having emptied herself
of the offhanded awful all over
my vulnerable, pliable head.
But that’s not why we’re here today.
A motion’s been made,
and the committee would like to hear
opposing views.
Well you’d better damn well believe I have
an opposing view.
This will not stand.
This will not stand.
And I stand.
The chair would like to recognize.
What did I say to my sixth-grade son
this morning? I am suddenly wondering.
There’s a long, long pause
before the chair moves on to other business.
.