|Hear me read
the poem as
an MP3 file.
|Alistair exudes sophistication,
Leaning on his learning as though lame.
Intelligence in him is like a curtain,
Shutting off the windows to his heart.
There is with him no chance for conversation,
As though each point were counted in some game.
Intent on winning, prepped and always certain,
Rest assured he'll flaunt his range and art.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon