Lemonade: proudly rejected by Poetry Magazine
I wrote this poem in college after I gave a few dramatic monologues with very little positive response. Lemonade When the limelight turns on, I stand in the center with a clear plastic pitcher. I pour out my heart like lemonade (sour and sweet) and I serve it to the crowd in those little dixie cups, and they sip a little, and toss out the rest as they walk out the door. They walk together and say, "pretty good," "decent," "fairly good beginning," "that was a start." When the limelight turns off, I stand in the center- all by myself, with an empty pitcher. They thought my heart was mediocre.