The Poet's Voice

The guys had just settled down in front of the blazing fake fireplace for a quiet evening of quiet discussion – though neither of them thought they would achieve that goal.

“When did you learn to hypnotize people, Kiddo?” Brian wondered in beginning the discussion. “You must have hypnotized me or I would never have….”

“OK, Kinney,” Justin grinned at him. “You said you’d go – without the benefit of any hypnotism either – not that the idea isn’t food for thought. But you did say you’d go - so you gotta go….”

“The TS Eliot Poetry Forum,” Brian recalled. “I can’t believe anybody in his right mind would want to be….”

“It’s the big poetry society over at the Institute, Mr. Kinney,” Justin re-informed him. “It’s real hard to get into – and it’s really special when like – a music student is invited. Most of our poets are poetry specialists….”

“So who would have thought that Roger Dowdell – our favorite guitarist – who is maybe the best guitarist I’ve ever heard live and in person – by the way,” Brian marveled, “Would want to get involved in writing poetry? He should be spending all his time with his guitar….”

“That was kind of strange, Bri,” Justin admitted. “They asked him a year or so ago to accompany some of the poetry readings on his guitar – and he just like – loved the poetry – so he tried writing some and now he’s gonna be an Eliot himself. It’s a big honor….”.

“They probably just want him so they’ll get free guitar accompaniment when they want it, Sweetheart,” Brian conjectured. “Maybe Roger should get some drums and drown them out….”

“Nope,” Justin insisted. “They love his poetry. And I bet it’s really good too….”

“Are you telling me that you’ve never read or heard any of Roger’s poetry, you little rat,” Brian laughed, “And now you’re dragging me off to this damn reading….”

“Now that is a dumb thing to say, Brian Kinney,” Justin sounded peeved. “Of course I’ve read all of Roger’s poetry – and heard most of it read too. I just like – don’t know what it’s about. You don’t get elected to The TS Eliot Forum by writing stuff that people understand…..”

“Geez, Honey,” Brian seemed apologetic, “I shoulda known that. There was some poetry in my sophomore literature class at college. But you’re absolutely right. If a poem’s good enough, nobody knows what it means – sort of like a Samuel Beckett play….”

“Gee whiz, Brian,” Justin complained. “I don’t see why you have to keep bringing that up. It wasn’t my fault that Malcolm decided to put on Waiting for Godot and Endgame in repertory. But we – like – always go to see Malcolm’s plays so we had to go – but it wasn’t my fault – and you know it too….”

“If it wasn’t for you, Baby,” Brian grinned, “I wouldn’t even know Malcolm – and I wouldn’t be having to go to all of his plays….”

“Well that could be, Kinney,” Justin conceded – moving in closer to the guy on his left, “But I think I make up for that in lots of ways…..”

”Like – what ways, JT?” Brian squeezed the twink in response. “Give me an example….”

There was a pause in the discussion at this point and Justin was considering what example he should cite. Whatever it was that he decided, it must have worked - after a rather lengthy pause, eventually the discussion resumed with Brian much less combative.

“I did say I’d go, Baby,” he relented, “So I’ll go – but can we sit in like – the last row – so we can be the first ones out…?”

“Brian,” Justin replied. “There’s like – one more thing. Do you remember Priscilla Emerson? She saw you when you played in Twelve Angry Men at the Community Playhouse….”

“Was she the one who acted like I was Ricky or Shawn or Robert, Kiddo,” Brian laughed “The only one though. I think she liked my performance better than I did – and I thought I was pretty darn good….”

“Well you were pretty darn good, Honey,” Justin assured him, ”And yeah – she was the one. Well she’s President of the TS Eliot Forum this year….”

“So if she reads one of her poems, Taylor,” Brian posited, “I guess you want me to pay her back and like – go ballistic….”

“Nope,” Justin told him. “But she did ask me if you were coming and when I told her you were gonna be there…..”

”Geez, Babe,” Brian recoiled. “She’s not gonna make another fuss about Twelve Angry Men, is she? That was years ago….”

“I don’t think so, Bri,” Justin observed, “Not that we can be sure though. But she did have like – another request – and you don’t have to do it, Brian. It’s completely up to you – it’s all your call - so whatever you decide will be it….”

“This must be really awful, Sweetheart,” Brian had to smile. “You aren’t usually this nervous about asking stuff….”

“Yes I do too always get nervous about asking stuff, Kinney,” Justin corrected him, “Because you like - never want to do anything - and you always give me a hard time and…..”

”So what the hell’s going on this time?” Brian wondered. “I’ll try not to give you a hard time when I don’t want to do it….”

“Well the Forum always begins their meeting with somebody reading a TS Eliot poem, Bri,” Justin revealed, “The reader is often a guest - and Priscilla would like you to read Eliot’s first published poem - The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock….”

“You have to be kidding,” Brian laughed hard enough to make Justin even more nervous. “You mean Eliot wrote Prufrock ….
 

‘Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table.’”

“What’s going on, Brian Kinney?” Justin seemed dumbstruck, “You like – know the damn poem…?”

“Not all of it, Baby,” Brian was still laughing. “But it was one of the poems we had in sophomore literature. Nobody knew what it was about - and I forgot it was by TS Eliot. The instructor was a nice southern lady named Mrs. Rand. I don’t think she knew what it meant either - but she still loved it. It was her absolute favorite. Anyhow, I used to read it to Mikey and he got hysterical every time. So it’s Mikey’s favorite poem too. I’m sure of that….”

“Well maybe you better decline then, Bri,” Justin suggested. “I’d really be embarrassed if you started laughing right in the middle of the reading. It’s a serious poem and all – and the Forum is a serious group too….”

“Au contraire, Kiddo,” Brian told him. “I will accept Priscilla’s kind invitation to participate in the TS Eliot Forum – and we’re bringing Mikey too. He’d be insulted if we didn’t….”

“There’s no way you and Mikey could get through that reading without laughing, Brian,” Justin decided. “You know that….”

“You’ll figure something out, Sweetheart,” Brian cuddled him closer. “You always do. There is no problem so tough that Justin Taylor cannot solve it – except maybe explaining some poems….”

“OK Kinney,” Justin smiled as he plopped his head on Brian’s shoulder. “I said it’s your call and it is. But first thing tomorrow I’m going to the library and get a book on hypnosis….”
 

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