Writer’s Club

If you’re going to join Writer’s Club, you must be willing
To silence social function. We sit around unpretending
With pretence and tension. But you know what? Masterful aloofness
Is us. How’d you like them pears?

We have a few unwritten rules (honestly) and you must tolerate
Our classless classlessness operating
Unironically and quick
Even if it can sound clunky right now.

And sometimes—when we aren’t all men—
We move startled around the room gathering ideas
Facelessly masked: Sir (picture him) shouts, “I need another word
For humour!” Dame (picture her): “”Synonym”?”