The Reception

I feel
Awkward
I wish I’d thought to make my dress
Much more
Conventional
Then I’d not be in this mess
Eying the
Succulent
Menu on the groaning table
And seeing
Something
I’d so love to eat but I’m unable
To leave my brave
Companion
The tall potted plant, which now conceals me
From plain sight and the
Odium
Which would follow me
Inevitably
If they saw the real me…

E.M. Swift-Hook