I get it, you will sit bored at the restaurant while we wait for a table,
be forced to talk with your father about the bushes,
Did you see those bushes?
I did see those bushes!
Wow, those bushes.
True, you might miss an email about your Fantasy Football League draft
or the latest YoBoy PIZZA post on YouTube.
Instead of reaching for my phone,
you will need to think about what to do next.
It will take focus and determination to think about the thoughts in your head,
instead of pushing them away.
But, you never know, you might be surprised or surprise yourself.
You might lie in a hammock with a milkshake in hand, entertain yourself
by looking at the ocean—the actual ocean.
Maybe you’ll see a dolphin leap through the air.
Or say, “hi,” to a kid for the first time, strike up a conversation, make a new friend.
Maybe you’ll feel relaxed and like the strange, new sensation.
You might even start to write a poem, called, “My Stupid Mommy,” about how she won’t let you be on media. How she’s too yelly, too annoying, and too mommy.
And, how she’s right, it does suck.
But, maybe, the hammock’s swing will stick in your head like the toggle of the stick on your X-box, the milkshake’s cold sweetness melting in your mouth like a smooth run, and that ocean,
When did it get so blue?
Chanel Brenner is the author of Vanilla Milk: a memoir told in poems, (Silver Birch Press, 2014), a finalist for the 2016 Independent Book Awards and honorable mention in the 2014 Eric Hoffer awards. Her poems have appeared in New Ohio Review, Poet Lore, Rattle, Cultural Weekly, Muzzle Magazine, and others. Her poem, “July 28th, 2012” won first prize in The Write Place At the Write Time’s contest, judged by Ellen Bass.