01.04.05 - 2:57 p.m.

i keep having mini-panic attacks, screening
paper with my name printed there for everyone
to see my breath catches in my throat and my knuckles
whiten, tim says are you okay and i exhale, laugh
uh huh, why? and i hang the sheets of cover weight
by clothespins in the spare room and the
way they dangle like laundry makes me see stars.
i gave the first copy to my sister who dutifully cried
and called me a genius while trying to keep a firm
hold on her wriggling pug puppy and i kissed her
and laughed because my life couldn't have been more
ridiculous than it was at that moment.