sometimes
the memories
and traditions
and thoughts of events gone past
get to be too much
and you are at a [relatively] low-stakes performance
and you feel the desire
no the drive
no
the absolute
need
to go to denny’s
[or any late late late night diner]
and you try to be better behaved
than your sixteen-year-old self
but you still find yourself
singing
at the table…
[but at least there was no
truth-or-dare jenga
this time]
damn
this performance just
snuck
right
up
i suppose it makes sense
what with
everything
else
going
on
but
i get to perform
i get to back-up dance
i get to watch my friends perform
and i get to co-host
[which is technically not an entirely new thing
for me, but the last time it happened was like
over ten years ago now, and i have almost no
memory of it, so it feels brand spanking new]
if you are near purchase, new york, why not stop on by
[tickets are free!]
https://www.ticketleap.events/tickets/queeryus/out-and-proud-a-ndod-celebration
i’m standing at a precipice
a precipice of my own making
and i think i’m
excited
performing
anxiety
anticipation
excitement
fear
hope
acting
for better or worse
it was my first training
it was my most training
it is the time that i feel the most myself
on stage
even with the
anxiety
and fear
there is always still
anticipation
to excitement
to hope
[if you’ll be in nyc
tomorrow, may 17th,
come on out!]
my focus is
all over the place
wandering from
poetry
to internet-ing
to excitement for performing
to worry about the weather
to anticipation of the possibilities of my own
silly
videos
to apprehension of the upcoming
~event~
of tomorrow…
and i have no conclusion to this poem
for my focus can’t stay on one thing long enough
for such luxuries as
a nice
~ending~
ok
but
what was that
the joy
of performing
the high
of the show
of the adoration
of the whole crowd
screaming
yelling
cheering
for
me
[is that what i’ve been missing?]
sometimes you have to go back to your
childhood home
family community
to gather strength
and encouragement
to go out into the world once more
the nerves
of all this past week
seem to melt away like butter
the morning of the show
just because
i’m so tired
and achey
and sleepy
and in pain
that i don’t even have the capacity
to feel much
of anything else
…hooray?
a dreary
rainy
new year’s eve
no big celebration
but maybe that’s what we need
to look at the past
and get excited for the future
and chill in the house with crafts and puzzles
writing reviews
picking poetry
performing
later
as long as i’m with my Kip
i’m happy
[though i’d be extra enthused
if next year we continued
our old tradition
of out-of-the-country travel
for the holiday times]
so long, 2022
[come see me bid farewell to the year with some poetry of my own via Zoom at 7pm Eastern:
https://www.eventbrite.com/e/new-years-eve-they-them-mayhem-tickets-419529813967 ]
find sure footing
feel no floating
establish boundaries
no barriers
to your creativity
with only words
~~~
i did it
i performed
and this poem would be so much better
if i’d written it that
(or the next)
day
but i have to say
the feelings
of musical theatre magics
are starting to sneak up on me
again
(and i’m really unsure
how i feel about
that)
~~~
staying up
until midnight
to give the pup
the pill she needs
to not be in pain
all night long
but for me
for my mind
i probably should have been asleep hours ago…
kipventures 