sitting before me

I'm reading to them
and I'm nervous.
my butt is puckering
and I can feel the sweat
starting at my brow
and working its way to my eyes.
this is my stuff, my words
and I'm sharing them, giving them away
like crack whore babies at dawn in front
of the Fire Station.
there doesn't seem to be any way
to express how much I want to puke right now,
how much I want to purge myself of their staring
eyes and wanting glares.
but I speak a small word and my voice is too soft
and my hands tremble, but I'm the only one who sees
them.
I reach down inside of myself and the words explode.
they are watching the thunder.
the sound is seen like a shadow forming over all their heads,
suffocating them in their seats. I am amazed at this voice
that comes from within me, this register and tone, beating
at them and raping them there
in their seats.
a storm is inside of me and I'm nearly done,
almost broken, already damaged,
fucking them
in their seats.
watch the silly man speak the words.
see his hands shake.
feel the sweat from his enormous balls,
dripping into stained
slacks.
if he fumbles,
let him fall.
if he quakes,
let the ground beneath him swallow him whole.
let his stomach lurch and his intestines knot.
let him puke this unto us
in our seats.