the book club guy

his stuff is pretty shallow but
he reads it with mad intensity and seems to
enjoy the stinging pain he inflicts on us, twisting
scenarios and contorting comprehension into
little particles of vanishing image.
mainly, his characters are dull.
our gathering this afternoon was small and grew
smaller as he read the material, using his arms to
illustrate his hands but never finding a
point while grasping at literary straws.
Linda excused herself for a potty break
and stayed away.
Georgie left to get a cappuccino
at the library coffee bar and seemed in no
hurry to return. Sally slept with eyes open.
Laurie was clearly languishing.
From across the table, Elizabeth gave me a sly wink.
and he kept talking about a serious misunderstanding
which developed between a young man and an older
woman inside an experimental laboratory where
they both worked as temps. his implications were small.
no dancing. no great oration. no jokes. no issues.
i didn't have to pee and wanted no coffee, so
kept my seat, but damn, i thought, why couldn't there be
any excitement? a touch of tension? a grab of hair?
a little league ball field was nearby and i thought about
batting practice and sliding into second under the
fielder's tag to put myself into scoring position.
i imagined my drag bunt down the first base line,
the pitcher unable to get over, the catcher unable to
remove his mask, the first baseman frozen with
indecision and i'm safe, now on first and third, and the dust
is still rising and my team's parents holler and scream.
meanwhile, they kept arguing in the lab, he said. why, again?
something about a forgotten anniversary or a missed appointment.
a librarian appeared with her hair neatly combed to
remind us of closing time. no one looked at their
wrist watch, yet papers were shuffled together and bags
were opened and shut. finally, to our unmasked relief,
the reader knew it was time to end the session, adjusted his
spectacles and folded his blue book.
he needs to find a better voice.