The Other Man - Oct 14 2023

 

The Other Man

Oct 14 2023

I know how it feels to rage.

How the Furies erupt

as if you were possessed

by some alien being

bursting out through your skin.

How you flush red

gut churns,

muscles tense and temples pulse,

neck veins

distend with blood.

So who better to see

how he suppressed it,

appearing calm and carefully reasoned,

empathetic even.

But the forced levity

and strained appeasement

made it easy to tell

his heart wasn't in it.

While as things went on

his flat tone

contained a hint of menace,

and he spoke

in the short constricted sentences

of a man on edge,

too controlled to sound

as if he truly meant it.

I noticed how his fists were clenched

arms flexed

eyes intense as lasers,

and pictured a coiled spring;

its lethal force, all pent-up

ready to unleash.

Anyone

within arm's length

duly warned.

Yet I sympathized with him;

a decent man,

his forbearance tested

until pushed past its limit.

Which was considerable;

because he was well-intentioned

and essentially good.

Which is how it goes

when a man's life is upended,

his family threatened,

and a tense marriage

hangs by a thread.

So is it understandable

what happened

when he had nothing left?

When his patience

was finally exhausted

willpower spent?

When his long suppressed rage

was vented on his rival;

who was foolish enough

to confront him one-on-one?

I want to say don’t judge a man

by the worst thing in life

he's ever done.

A man scorned,

and a hair-trigger gun

its barrel still warm.

The killing of a lover

who wouldn't be warned.

Inspired by a terrific movie I just saw, The Killing of Two Lovers: atmospheric; understated; precisely paced; and with naturalistic performances that are utterly compelling, like a voyeuristic glimpse into real life.

In the movie, the spring releases slowly, subtly, suspensefully; then violently uncoils. The way the main character contains his emotion while at the same time expressing it is masterful. And the atmosphere is perfectly matched: a provincial town on barren prairie in the thin cold light of winter's cusp.

(Btw, no spoiler here. The movie takes a different direction.)