was
for a group
of aspiring writers,
the host
asked me to
start off by giving the
audience a writing challenge of sorts,
something
to think about
while i was reading.
i thought
that was stupid
and crazy and counter-productive.
it was
bad enough
having to read my poems,
which
i hate doing,
because…
well…
i
just hate it,
but that’s the job.
so i
waited till the end.
and then
i told them
to go home and
look in a mirror and
write about what they saw.
i
told them
how to reach me
and said
i don’t care
how they write it
or what they write;
just write something.
anything.
that was
a week ago,
and i’m still waiting.
some
challenges,
it seems, can’t be met.
i’m
just glad
that i met mine.
