Blind Date – poem by Jay Leeming | Ted Kooser

  • Mon Dec 30th, 2013 3:04am
  • Life

I don’t remember ever having a blind date, but if I had, I suspect it would have gone just as the one goes in this poem by Jay Leeming, who lives in New York state.

 

Blind Date

 

 

Our loneliness sits with us at dinner, an unwanted guest

who never says anything. It’s uncomfortable. Still

 

we get to know each other, like students allowed

to use a private research library for only one night.

 

I go through her file of friends, cities and jobs.

“What was that like?” I ask. “What did you do then?”

 

We are each doctors who have only ourselves

for medicine, and long to prescribe it for what ails

 

the other. She has a nice smile. Maybe, maybe . . .

I tell myself. But my heart is a cynical hermit

 

who frowns once, then shuts the door of his room

and starts reading a book. All I can do now is want

 

to want her. Our polite conversation coasts

like a car running on fumes, and then rolls to a stop;

 

we split the bill, and that third guest at the table

 

goes home with each of us, to talk and talk.

 

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Jay Leeming’s most recent book of poems is Miracle Atlas, Big Pencil Press, 2011. Poem copyright © 2011 by Jay Leeming and reprinted by permission of the author and the publisher. Introduction copyright © 2013 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.