My mind is hot and swirling
Like my brain is in the dryer.
I try and try to calm myself,
But blood pressure gets higher.
I’m schooled in meditation,
But can’t think of what they teach,
Because tonight I have to give
A seven minute speech.
I’ve written out my note cards
(On paper and in the cloud).
I’ve proofread it a hundred times
And read it all out loud.
Yet my heart beats, my palms sweat,
And the world feels surreal
Because, for my seven minute speech,
I’ve four minutes if mater’al.
And so I am rewriting,
Adding anecdotes and facts,
Undoing all my “control-Z’s”
And redacting my “redacts.”
And as my fevered fingers run
Like the witch chases Gretel and Hansel
I’m giving a seven-minute prayer
That they have to call and cancel.
The Daily Travesty 