I am not a slam poet.

my words do not want to be devoured.

they sit like green bean casserole on your otherwise-empty plate,

asking to be picked at, played with,

eaten in small and delicate bites.

they do not apologize for what they are-

you may find them unappetizing, or simply boring

but they ask only to be read, and later digested,

perhaps leaving you with a somewhat pleasant feeling.

I cannot ask for even this-

-my words do not beg to be liked.

they do not stand up on stage and scream

I-LOVE-YOU, they do not wait for applause,

and perhaps you will find them discarded in the pit

after the orchestra has left.

they will not become youtube sensations,

they will not go viral- perhaps they will not be read

by anyone except for you.

so if you happen upon my words,

pick them up. keep them to yourself,

hold them for a minute and then

blow them into the wind like dandelion seeds.

perhaps some of those seeds will reach soil and grow.

perhaps no one will think they are beautiful.

perhaps my words don't mind.