Conversation in a Bar
Words disjointed and drifting in the gloom
laughter muffling nearby to where we are
while at a tilting table in the bar
our anemic conversation fails to bloom.
I barely talk; you spin tales about imprudence
of college boys (excluding me, you stress)
their excuses, obtuse answers on your tests
the general lack of curiosity of students —
your gallant efforts to teach biology
to the uncunning, how you got weary
explaining evolutionary theory
so switched to punning, then to ecology.
I throw in a word or two, composed
to keep our conversation going,
laugh widely at your jokes, knowing
my ignorance could be exposed
yet who am I? What role have I to play
in your career? I glance at you in fear
afraid to wonder why I’m here
at this paltry bar, nothing real to say
at least to you. I am some common boy
who smiles, attempts to laugh, who thinks your wit
too shiny to bestow on one who sits
dully in his chair. I’m one wit should destroy.
I am uncool. A tenderfoot. A stumbling cow
getting in the way. Yet you turn your face to me
impatient with my reticence; stare steadily.
And ask suddenly, “What are you thinking now?”
§
There was silence in the room, a bizarre pause
a moment long when all the room’s sensations
reached their nadir, an end to laughter, conversations
ceasing, then picking up again, then applause
at some table in the back. All the while
your eyes stared me down, demanding answer
face flush with curiosity: devoid of rancor
I could detect — though perhaps a hint of guile.
§
What was I thinking? Or instead of thought
was there some sensation coursing in my arms?
Or rather, movement in your eyes? Did I yearn
to kiss you. Did I burn for something that we ought
not do? And, if admitted, would that upset you?
I think I closed my eyes. I think I smelled
your perfume in the dark. Then I felt
my boyhood melt away, chased by something new.
It was strong, the feelings of a man
roused in my limbs, my torso and my flank.
It was then I felt — one moment only — the rank
power of your loins, your strong élan.
Your body flushed with mine, your roving mouth
kissing me on all the muscled places
desire turgid in me rising, heartbeat racing
in anticipation of what we were about.
Arms grappling in delighted space, brushing
and sweeping, swift like fleeting otters
legs powerful, caressing, pressing
in river swimming amid the brackish water.
§
“Seriously” you repeat, “What are you thinking?”
Eyes meet again. I shrug to brush your gaze
away. Amid the cacophony of the room I hear me say
“With all this din, I’m incapable of thinking.”
I force a languid laugh, a slow grin
to let you know that all is back to normal
at this our tilted table, that our informal
banter of helpless words has returned again.
