This is a poem written by Nathan Moore and I over two drunken nights at Larry’s Bar…
Stage Fright at the Poetry Open Mic
Shine on me your blinding light
I’ll twist and fight and still find the sound
at once too fast, too slow. Pain encumbers, but desire
shouts. It’s megaphone fires at my ear.
When I stand in front of you, sweat forms
but when I perform I can’t see. My script leaves me.
My mouth juggles these syllables, my eyes turn you
slant, the say my glasses do. I pinch my nose,
squint, and screw my eyes around that word,
around the world outside this spotlight, the world I’m trying.
Lying like a dog in the scene, I’m telling the truth, though
it’s useless. I’m forcing this beauty down your throught:
meaning is the tonic, and your sonic method met my
architectural wound. Lace up my flesh, run the thread
of your intention through the grommets in my skin. I’m in,
I’m out. Still you shout these asemic billboards. The road hoards
your words. I cannot understand what you want to tell me,
your khole lined eyes convey, then skuttle, sway,
and dart at my teeth. I smile at you and sing from them.
In front of all of them, I’ll flaunt our connection while never letting on.
I’ll go on and this jacket will not fit. We’ll sit and watch your words
squiggle in front, or are they mine, my words, thrown out into the air
are now yours, and I keep them. They’re not yours now. They’re mine.
mine. mine. mine. mine. mine. mine. mine.mine. mine. mine.