artwork: ralph murre
The Connoisseur of Canoes
by
Jimmy Pappas
Nursing
a drink in my right
hand,
I enter the boathouse
and
wonder how long I can
pretend
to be sipping the few
drops
I have left. The group
forms
a circle shoulder to
shoulder
in my peripheral
vision.
Occasionally, someone
glances
my way and turns
back
quickly to avoid eye
contact,
while I stop at a boat
and
touch the varnish with
one
finger from my left hand.
I
pretend to be a connoisseur
of
canoes, an aficionado of
aquatic
vehicles, all the while
wishing
the ice in my glass
would
melt faster so I could
take
another sip. Until it does,
I
stare at my reflection and
wonder
if people had it wrong
about
Narcissus, that he
didn’t
fall in love with
himself,
just out of love
with
the rest of the world.
~
previously published in Atticus Review
