From the moment you
Opened the seven foot
Door and swaggered
Across the room, I knew
I wasn’t going to like
You. A mutual
Friend gives an
Introduction.
You go in
For a handshake
In times gone
By, this was
To confirm the other
Was not holding a
Weapon. I keep
My hands
By my side.
Your hand wavers, then
Falls.
There is a
Nod. Acceptance.
Later I am talking
You creep up
Next to me,
I say something
Funny,
No not funny but
Laughable;
You lean back
And give a belly
Laugh, patting me
On the back.
Is this to show me
You are
A devious prick or simply
A gesture of friendship,
Cordiality, that makes
Up for the missed
Handshake?
In school I might have had
‘Kick me’
Slapped to my back.
I instinctively check.
Now it appears to you
That I am disgusted with
Your touch. You
Raise your lips in a weak
Smile and
Exit. A wounded animal
Caught
In conversation
