Non-Narrative Fiction

You love reading many books at once,
Gaze leaping lightly and attention
Shifting gears—best if you can’t follow

What’s happening in any of them.
You’re alert but only to the lines,
The phrases that snag or get snagged on

Your dancing thoughts. The mechanisms
Of storytelling are intriguing
In the abstract, and often tempt you

To try your hand at a narrative,
Thought you entertain for a minute
Or two, maybe more. Then at the end

Of every measured line you slow, pause,
And wait, expecting thought to finish,
As if each line were to deliver

A prize or surprise. You acknowledge
The narrative you dreamed of is stuck
Already, and all you have are lines.

You love reading many books at once,
Gaze leaping lightly and attention
On alert, but only to the lines,