Attention

Attention

The blue-and-white tiled room smothers me
Filled with bright white noise
Static on a radio of invisibility
Here and there, a wisp of conversation
Floats out of the blankness
But it doesn’t penetrate
I finally sit down at my designated table
In my designated corner
By my designated friend
Once, she was my real friend
But I might be remembering that wrong
The picture in my mind is fuzzy,
Like the color on an old TV
Anyway, those days are said and done
Now conversations are rare
And emotion, rarer
I hated her for a while
But now between us there’s just this tension
Unspoken, unconsummated
But as benign as a lost friendship can be

Panting breaths and flickering contact
Flinging apologies over one shoulder
Clambering gratefully into a puffing, screeching labyrinth
Of brown leather seats
The outside that shade of yellow which seems to be saved
Especially for school busses
And there she is
Faded color on an old TV
She laughs at me
Draws pictures on my outstretched hand
In black ink that will be washed off by tomorrow
Shakes her hair back and wrinkles her nose
Just like before the blue cafeteria and the yellow bus
But it’s all pretend
We both know it
Guilt pushes her into uneasy conversation
She knows, somehow, about that brief spell
When I hated her for leaving me
And she guides these apologetic flashbacks
In silent confession of an unspoken wrong

Sparse hands raised in impatient pleas
Stifled cries for an answer
As the teacher looks around imperiously
She points a finger, and is answered
By a pious voice
Quick, triumphant, obsequious
She nods deferentially and moves on
While he gazes around him majestically
And hatred is a high, pulsating note in the room
Focused on this arrogant boy
Soon it will be focused on me
Soon I will shout an answer
And be hated for my insufferable knowledge

Waiting in the basement on a cold leather couch
Blocks of canvas and glue
Clothed in satin
Pound on the floor above me
My sister is somewhere up there
Tapping, brushing, leaping
To silver-stringed melodies
The music stops, and down they all come
A flurry of skinny waists and bright eyes
One stops, one hand on her hip
And squints at me
I shrink into the soft blue leather
Escaping the inevitable
Her eyes widen in joyful recognition
Followed by a reproof
Why, she demands to know
Did I stop dancing?
Arranging my face into uncertain contrition
I explain calmly that it didn’t suit me
That I had too many syllables and not enough movements
Different
Bewildered but satisfied, the girl moves away
And I wonder why I had to be remembered

Between blue cafeterias and yellow busses
Pink satin and leather couches
Lurks the treacherous creature Attention
It will strike without warning
Unbidden and destructive
But then, when called upon to act
Will retreat into its dark haven
It wields the power to give weak men pride
And make strong ones lift their upturned hands skyward
Begging for solitude
But most of all it harbors the strength
To bring sobs or smiles
To the desperate, awkward young