The White Ship (9) Poem by David McLansky

(9) Being Suave

What perception has the soul
Behold a tree from seed unfold!
I saw your eyes, their mystery,
And glimpsed our coming history.

I, of glib and ready tongue,
Stood schoolboy-like, a youth unsprung,
I could only lamely leer
And jock-like ask you out for beer.

You smiled and said you missed your tea
And stood with grace and dignity;
A thousand thoughts moved through my brain;
All I could do was grin again.

I jabbered, sputtered out my life
As to my throat you held a knife,
My lawyer's life, dissatisfactions;
Your patient eyes constant distraction.

Aimlessly we walked the quad,
Agnostically, I prayed to God;
My empty hands hung self-aware,
I, in lead, and going nowhere.

Oh Time charged with inconstancy,
Deny me such delinquency,
That I official of the Court
Should sue for love with stammered tort!

And then you simply took my arm
And stately led me in alarm,
You knew a place not very far,
Did I know the West End Bar?