I’m not too fond of introducing
myself in front of people.
I’m also not fond of introducing
myself in their backs.
I never was interested in introducing myself,
nor the tedious thought of explaining
Such as my name begins with “E” followed by “M”
Followed by all the things that creep my childhood days
like ants crawling on my favorite food

And I never really liked the way people treat
any kind of introduction as cargo planes
Stacking all their luggage and first impressions
as soon as the last punctuation lands on the microphone
—Ignorant of how the cabin struggles to keep up with their over inflated egos

On the other hand though,
I am proud to be a one day museum.
Marvel across the beauty of my unearthed fossils,
my lost articles,
The rusted opening statements
and the century old awkward monotones
Trying to polish all the jagged edges
to make it a little more smoother and acceptable

I am proud to be a five-minute-gallery,
to be a five-minute-tour-guide of my own worn out mansion
I hope you enjoyed the show
As I regain my dignity along with my oxygen while I walk past
All the condescending eyes and smiles

But then, I wonder what’s the significance of the microphone,
or the exhausted salivary glands,
or the pre-rehearsed lines
I wonder why, after all that has been said and done,
you’re going to ask me “Hey, what’s your name again?”

“Oh, you didn’t hear it huh?”

“Uh, yeah? I mean I was busy with something
so would you mind telling your name again? “
“Hi. I am somebody worth less than your earlier business.

Nice to meet you.”

— Introductions, Series: Papers and Erasers

poetry (1) writing (1)