Emily Leithauser Two Classmates I. The Vehement Nodder
Yes, Wes, your affectations seemed sincere:
The down-turned mouth, the pen behind an ear,
the earnest creases in your brow, the dark,
neurotic gaze preceding each remark.
The jerking motion of your neck betrayed,
alas, your self-affirming masquerade,
your need to demonstrate somatically
how you perceive the world more radically
than we plebeians whose stiff-necked responses
reveal our failure to enjoy "nuánces."
II. The Hyperbolic Hyena
Leave, Steve. We'll laugh to prove we understand.
And if you ever manage an unplanned
guffaw out there, do let us know. And pack
your synonyms—a dearth is just a lack—
away. Vamoose, or if you like, decamp;
we promise we'll remember just how damp
your eyes and shirt became when Tolstoy wrote
the tragicomic line you can't quite quote.
And in our mirthless, monosyllabic way
we'll miss what Chekhov meant. We'll be OK.