By Marco Madron
I stand upon the stage
A soldier of speech.
Bullets for words,
A dagger
Of amplification

It’s just five minutes,
You can get through it.

First joke.
Missed its mark,
Thought it was funny.
They did not.

Ok, four minutes,
On to the next bit.

Vacuum for sound
A blank room soup.
Try to regroup.

Still three minutes?
This is going to shit.

Tactically depleted,
But the fight isn’t done.

C’mon, two minutes,
I think I wanna quit.


One minute,
The light, lit.

That’s it for me.

To one’s surprise,
This only begins
My rise.