
“Writing Distraction”
Environment skews focus
Elusive ideas remain away
Cannot quite grasp it
Looming large but ineffable
Which is a word I learned in high school
From a young woman named Megan
Which I cannot remember if she spelled her name with or without an “h”
Old dial tone phones with Boa Constrictor cords
Kept us tethered in the wonder of an inconsequential connection
Each of us pushed towards an idea of what we were supposed to be
In spite, of the discomforts of not knowing how
I do not know that we ever kissed or held hands
But—I am certain the seeds of my later courting elegance were sown during these largely small distractions
Flailing at life
Learning to dance
Whispering into the molded plastic receiver of an avocado colored phone
Hoping against hope that my deepest secrets and desires were heard