Knute Skinner
Something
There was muffled talk in the hallway.
Betrayal? Romance? A set of directions?
I moved toward the door but stopped
when I heard my name spoken.
I was very ... something.
Then the door bell rang and the voices stilled,
and another door opened behind me,
and a small crowd gathered.
The party, everyone said, was a whopping success.
Everyone sang and told jokes
between mouthfuls of pasta.
We had almost too much to drink,
and all of the women kissed me.
And I was suitably surprised,
and I was of course very grateful,
and whatever else I might be,
I was very something.
Page(s) 74
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