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Literary Circles
In the dentist’s waiting room I shared
the space with a literary lion, snared
by an over-bearing woman who gushed
that she wished he could be pushed
into speaking at her reading circle
while he, tooth aching, failed to sparkle
sufficiently to ameliorate her feelings
of rejection - or placate her. Appealing
to his cupidity she added that the women
always purchased copies to examine.
Such liquidity of funds relieved his pain
and he said that thinking it over again
he might be able to squeeze her in
and favoured her with his schoolboy grin,
made famous on book jackets, but winced
when his tooth stabbed. He evinced
an obvious distaste for her rudeness
and she, insensitive, misconstrued this
as artistic temperament. A voice suddenly spoke:
“For Christ’s sake woman, leave the poor bloke.
Can’t you see he’s in pain?” The old man smiled
then resumed his comic book just like a child.