I remember how I felt like an outsider

And an insider every time I stood up

How I’d have to dive deep

Into the character of my poem

To keep the courage to recite for my full three minutes

Three minutes

That was the goal.

After that, you were docked

Points shaved from your score

could keep you out of the next round

I wondered if they snickered at my tame material

I didn’t write about sexual fetishes

Or drug experimentation

Or escaping my family’s religious cult

I wrote of my world, more settled

More grown-up

More isolated

Me and my kids against the world

Even on my night off