The dinner party poem

POETRY PROMPT - for this poem I want you to invite a poet (Shakesphere, Whitman, Rumi,...) to dinner. How does the dinner go, what do you eat, drink, and discuss? How do you interact? How does the dinner go? Your poem must have a title. Your poem must be 20 lines in length, lines must be a minimum of six words per line, maximum 12 words per line. The poet you invite to dinner can be living or dead. Your poet can be anyone but they must have published poetry that can be found on the Internet.I Invite My Parents to a Dinner Party (Links to an external site.) Chen Chen (Links to an external site.) In the invitation, I tell them for the seventeenth time (the fourth in writing), that I am gay. In the invitation, I include a picture of my boyfriend & write, ​You’ve met him two times. But this time, you will ask him things other than can you pass the whatever. You will ask him about him. You will enjoy dinner. You will be enjoyable. Please RSVP. They RSVP. They come. They sit at the table & ask my boyfriend the first of the conversation starters I slip them upon arrival: ​How is work going? I’m like the kid in ​Home Alone​, orchestrating every movement of a proper family, as if a pair of scary yet deeply incompetent burglars is watching from the outside. My boyfriend responds in his chipper way. I pass my father a bowl of fish ball soup—​So comforting, isn’t it?​ My mother smiles her best Sitting with Her Son’s Boyfriend Who Is a Boy Smile. I smile my Hurray for Doing a Little Better Smile. Everyone eats soup. Then, my mother turns to me, whispers in Mandarin, ​Is he coming with you for Thanksgiving? My good friend is & she wouldn’t like this.​ I’m like the kid in ​Home Alone,​ pulling on the string that makes my cardboard mother more motherly, except she is not cardboard, she is already, exceedingly my mother. Waiting for my answer. While my father opens up a ​Boston Globe​, when the invitation clearly stated: ​No security blankets.​ I’m like the kid in ​Home Alone,​ except the home is my apartment, & I’m much older, & not alone, & not the one who needs to learn, has to—​Remind me what’s in that recipe again​, my boyfriend says to my mother, as though they have always, easily talked. As though no one has told him many times, what a nonlinear slapstick meets slasher flick meets psychological pit he is now co-starring in. Remind me​, he says to our family. POETRY PROMPT - for this poem I want you to invite a poet (Shakesphere, Whitman, Rumi,...) to dinner. How does the dinner go, what do you eat, drink, and discuss? How do you interact? How does the dinner go? Your poem must have a title. Your poem must be 20 lines in length, lines must be a minimum of six words per line, maximum 12 words per line. The poet you invite to dinner can be living or dead. Your poet can be anyone but they must have published poetry that can be found on the Int