John Grey
The timing of awkwardness was exquisite.
We were like two startups, with the right products
to market and manufacture, but unable to raise more funds.
You kept looking, surreptitiously, at your pocket mirror.
I blurred my face in the blade of a shiny knife.
Words were few and clearly un-genius-like.
But by suffering the extremes of dating blind, we learned a lot.
After an evening of fumbling, extended silences, flat jokes,
table-tapping, cutlery rearranging, and one unfortunate belch,
I could have given talks, even written papers on the subject.
Man and woman meet as strangers, spend two clumsy, inept hours
at close range but keeping their distance, rediscover their
propensity for nervous strain and shyness, part with more doubts
about themselves than the other, spend a restless night
confusing a lackluster get-together with the likes of death and disease.
And yet assignations are what humanity has long committed itself to.
But some of us are not cut out to be people.