Live from New York, it's

Tried for 4 weeks to write a poem about going to SNL

and this is as far as I've gotten.

Jamming these words into line after line

and not getting to the point.

Magical is mediocre as an adjective for SNL.

I was a wreck before making my way to the last row of the studio.

Had a category 5 internal crisis the night before,

so domineering I considered missing out on the last show of season 50.

But I pulled up in an Uber, 2 minutes before the non negotiable check in time.

My body un-showered but honoring the effective hoe bath I had taken. (A hoe bath without the prerequisite perk of having hoed- so really just a depressed bath).

State ID forgotten at home even though I read the email invite so many times.

(They let me in with a photo of my passport.)

In a fly ass fit, I got no pics in

Working double overtime to consume a spectacle I may never see again

To leave the real world somewhere else

And ground my mind fully in the now

It's intimate and colossal

Indie and Hollywood

A machine whose chaos injects calmness to the viewer

The APPLAUSE sign was merely set design

The audience was at the performers beck and call

I was

The energy in the room pacified the tantrum life throws everyday

It was smaller than I had imagined it would be

But massive enough to contain 5 decades worth of laughter and sleepless nights and ridiculous ideas and genius and fails and dreams

5...4...3...2...1...