to sit on a panel of experts
is what i imagine a threesome to be
everything is so much about "me!"
and yet, somehow we share, with masterful subtlety

of course the word "expert"
is a lubricant for a quickly approaching meteor
a classification that is an open door
to some cancerous outgrowth of a bureaucratic convention

and with the best of intentions
i attempt to play this hilarious role
like a child blowing air into a beach ball
waiting for the magic to appear

here and there i fall victim to a judgmental ear
without the slightest hint of sweet success
in my asexual desire to undress
the audience of nerds awaiting free food on a friday evening

life is a cosmic joke
we in this room are just another punchline
and the rest of the story drowns in the half bottle of red wine
that's waiting for me in the arms of an innocent israeli woman