“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

“Rain, Dear?”

Splatters drip abundant

Down sloped trolley exoskeletons

Wintering coats repel most water…

But, not all

Surgical masks punctuate the crowd

Riders on then off

The catastrophe of a wet commute

Hangs soggy on the brows of all