I imagined being challenged by someone to get their attention because they didn't want to go by a name. How would you talk to someone who didn't want a moniker? At first, a college professor or some accomplished writer might choose not to acknowledge me unless I was descriptive enough to say something that would hold their attention like a professor who would get me to talk about the weather without using the standard terms or the word 'nice'.
The poem immediately took a turn as I started out by trying to address someone (completely fictional) using senses like smell. I googled fragrances and got ideas for future odes that use methods of identifying fragrances like wine and how scents are described like music.
I enjoyed this fifteen minute effort. I think I could write fifty poems a day. Where is my novel? So easily distracted with notions like a child, leaving projects out before picking up another and another until the room inside my head is cluttered and I have no desire to clean and go out to play.
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