ETIQUETTE

I once wore work pants

to the dinner party.

I couldn't sense the proper time to sit.

I didn’t know which fork to use

and was uncertain how to waltz.

I could feel them staring at me

their eyes as sharp as blades

the imposter inside me tensed,

just waiting to be discovered.

How long, I wanted to scream,

How long until you realize

I know nothing, have nothing

to offer, will not be bringing

a single, solitary solution to the table?

I knew I was a fiction. I was nothing

but a made-up story, but it’s in

fiction, of course, where

one finds the greatest truths.