Dry Tinder: A new poem by Clyde Wray

Introduction by Mike Parker. Poem by Clyde Wray.

If you’re single and dating in Saint John you’ve probably had that moment – the uncomfortable Reggie’s moment.

It goes something like this. You stroll into the Germain Street restaurant one Saturday morning – it can be any greasy spoon, really; but this is Saint John and Reggie’s is the diner of choice for local hipsters – where you bump elbows with The Former Girlfriend and Her New Boyfriend, sharing a post-coital breakfast. Coffee in hand, shifting your weight from foot to foot,  you smile and  mumble a few polite words. How is the job? It’s wonderful to see you. Are you still in that apartment?

The spoken text is feigned indifference. The unspoken subtext tells a different story and one that most people rarely voice. So after a few moments of uncomfortable chatter, you mutter an excuse, fumble through a hug and walk out the door.

Moments like these are awkward ones. But they’re human moments also and they reveal a painful truth: Love – or is it lust? – is rarely extinguished. It smolders on despite how deeply we try to bury it.