what i am not (last week’s scribbles)

February 23


Sometimes I doodle between phone calls. Last week before Yosemite, this was one of my page’s tangles of words. Inspired, no doubt, by my discomfort dating someone with a partner—then that someone going through a break-up, and my sensing that for multiple reasons, now’s not a great time for us to date. Any angst in the tangle is not intended to be directed at that person. I think she’s quite lovely. In general, these are things I never hope to be to anyone I’m involved with. Was anyone else ever irritated by All American Reject’s song Dirty Little Secret when it was popular?


What I am not:

an emergency exit or escape

a break from your girlfriend/SO/partner

a secret

your cigarette



I could be scribbles,

could be condensation turned trickle

could be a surprise candy from

the colorful piñata, skidded beneath picnic table.

Could be a conversation

about superheroes, or ethics, or plans.

I could be a hand.


I am not your distraction.


Until, perhaps, someday I am:

mouth on mouth, laughing, teasing

joking about where we could be,

not particularly caring

because our distracting one another

is not really

a distraction.


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