After the Reading

someone  asked  me  if  my husband  left me,  or if I left him. After
the   reading,  someone   asked   me   if   there   was  a   chance  for
reconciliation  as  I shoved a  pulled  pork sandwich  in my mouth
with  Carolina  Gold BBQ  sauce  oozing  out  the  sides  like  neon
yellow  lava.  After  the reading,  someone  asked  me if I still pray
to  God  as  I  sipped a  fizzy Diet Coke  and the ice cubes huddled
and  softly clinked  around my  upper lip  leaving a wet mustache.
After  the  reading,  someone said they had been divorced too and
then  scurried away  in a way that I completely  understood. After
the  reading,  a  woman told me I was worthy as if I was shattered 
while   I   picked   up   crudités   with  a   copious  dollop  of  ranch
dressing.  After  the  reading,  a  white woman thanked me for my 
“angry poems.”  I  told  her they were about my joy,  and then she
touched  my  forearm  and  said,  “No,  they were about my rage.”
Insisting.  After   the  reading,   someone   said   they   cried,   and
another  gave me a kind word.  Thank you. After the after,  I went   
home and changed into my cheetah print pajamas. I wrapped my
hair and  brushed  my teeth. I got in bed and played a  sci-fi show
on  my  laptop. The  actors  on the  show were trying to find a way
to  talk  to  aliens by  using  math  and pheromones. I  googled the
height   of  one  of   the   actors.  He  is  6' 4".  I   fell   asleep  while 
watching   the    show   about    the    people   in   space   trying   to   
communicate  in  first  contact,  intergalactic  noises  beeped  and
swirled around the room like bees.

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“This prose poem tumbled out of me as anaphora, a way to capture the catalog of interactions that I’ve experienced after readings, which is a particularly tender and vulnerable time for me, especially when I’ve shared new work. The space after a reading can be a wild tangle of joy, connection, anxiety, and awkwardness when confronted with humanity. I’m learning to be more resolute about my own boundaries in the aftercare of art making.”
—Tiana Clark