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Attention Deficit Disorder
I once had a friend like Midas.
All he touched would turn to gold;
but after he would touch it
the thing would soon get old.
He’d focus for a while.
He’d train and run and race.
His talent was uncanny.
He’d leave without a trace.
We’d wonder where he’d went to.
We’d find him playing chess,
reading books on different movements.
He caused us lots of stress.
And once he had it mastered
we’d find him on the bike,
cycling up mountains,
winning races and then—psych!
He’d trade his bike for weapons.
He’d shoot and hunt and kill.
But once he had some wall-mounts
next to the windowsill
he’d be right on to the next thing,
a piano or a plane.
I swear to you the kid was
really quite insane.
And then he started writing.
He devoured tomes of books.
He’d write until the morning.
It would affect his looks.
He sent some to a journal.
They really liked his wit.
But once they were accepted
he was done with it.
Stamina’s required
if you want to be great.
And wasted talent’s something
I absolutely hate.
.
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Reid McGrath lives and writes in the Hudson Valley Region of New York.
Reid, looking back on life, many of us at least partially fit your description and have regrets for not staying on the path to ultimate success in a particular field of endeavor that could have been accomplished, yet having talents in divergent fields that attract our attention along the way or goals that we feel we wish to attain doing something else. Then there are sideshows that call to us as we travel one particular path and offers of making more money elsewhere that put us on a different path. Your excellent poem depicts such a person who experiences a variety of callings in life. Perhaps it could be called “attention attraction” or “attention magnetism.”
A good poem about the kind of directionless and unfocused person who can do many things, but who cannot settle on any single pursuit. In the past these men were called “grasshopper” types — that is, they would jump from one interest to another endlessly, and never get very far in any career.
In your poem, however, the young man described seems to be highly successful in whatever he turns his hand to. That kind of talent is admirable, and not common.
A.D.D. would not be what such a man is suffering from. That’s usually a syndrome found in adolescents who have spent too much time on drugs and social media, and who simply cannot sit still and pay attention in class. The man described in this poem, by contrast, is bound to be very successful. He has a lot of drive and energy.
Roy and Joe, thank you. Point taken. I’ll have to change the title!
Reid, I love the fun way you’ve described this character. He reminds me of Mr. Toad in “The Wind in the Willows”. The meter was perfect for the humorous aspect of the poem; would you call it a series of limericks?
I was amazed at the timing of seeing your name here today, because I recently ran across a poem of yours from the First Things 2017 issue, called “The Untrue Artist”, that I had saved because I liked it so much; and I was reading it to my husband just last night! (I was going to link to it, but was unable to find it on the FT site.) And I just found out you won the SCP contest in 2015. Congratulations! It’s great to see you here again.
Thank you, Cynthia. That is wild. I appreciate the kind words. Your poems have been a genuine treat for me as well.
In 2020 the SCP republished “The Untrue Artist” here: https://classicalpoets.org/2021/09/the-untrue-artist-and-other-poetry-by-reid-mcgrath/, but I see now that this version is missing a “the” in the last line, i.e. “the books,” which the First Things version incorporates. This seriously distorts the meter. Maybe my good buddy Evan Mantyk can change that for me.
Anyway, wishing you all the best.
Reid.
Fixed, Reid!
Dude, you’re quick. Thanks Mike.