LECTURE

LECTURE

By Tom Wayman

We sit in rows

facing a man

who is talking. We

are not saying anything.

Suddenly a door near the back

opens

and most of us turn our heads.

Is someone

from a

different life

about to enter?

Will he or she bring

the air from outside

tasting of the sea,

spices and malt,

fresh cut planks?

Will it be a person

who can articulate

why we are uneasy

in this room,

fearful of complaining

when what is said

is unsatisfactory?

Whoever is entering

is in the door now

and we observe

she is,

only one of us,

nervous at arriving late,

hurriedly taking a seat.

Our heads

swivel again

to where the talker

has continued

with his words

all this time.

Maybe he

will deliver us, break

into song, reveal wonders,

make our presence in this

cramped room

worthwhile. But it looks

doubtful.

Toward the rear a door opens.