[o'queery]

Someone once asked me,
" What do you want to be when you grow up?"

One meaningless occupation after another
floated just to the
surface of my lips

The question itself pointing fingers

and

ridiculing my life
thus far


I felt trapped

My heartbeat was off like a rocket to the base
of my throat and plunging
back down
and up

and

down

I'm stuttering. . Trying all the attractive
and "right" answers on

They feel tight, as if I am being fitted
for a suit that is just
one size too small

I shift without sound
open my notebook and
peer into the well of words
that let this boy breathe

To the asker I shrug..
Relying on dimples and
charm to satisfy the query

I close my eyes and step up to the Mic,
inhale freedom and say......


Me