Open Mic Night

I was watching a spoken word poet ranting 

using

even

paced

rambling

to 

convey 

the 

verse

I’d done spoken word before 

and I thought

“Do I sound and look that lame?”

The poet went on and on

about the homeless

animal rights

tax evasion

plastic shopping bags

the words 

went on

and on

and on

I stood up from my chair and yelled

“I can’t take it anymore! ”

“Step away from the mic!” 

“You and your annoying bleeding heart bullshit

need to step off!” 

“Pack it in, go home, and read this drivel in front of all your pets!”

No one said a word

not even the poet

mouths hung open like backhoes

the room was dead still

the poets head fell forward

tears started to fall

sobbing followed

then a full-blown breakdown

a collapse onto the floor 

The audience so bored before my outburst

are alive with energy

resurrected 

by the poet's breakdown

a couple now attends to the poet who is in a crumpled lump

still on the stage

mic cord wrapped around a worn shoe

as I scan the room 

all eyes are on me.