the poet laureate delayed

the phone rings

and i lose

my train of thought.

i put the pen down.

there's

a knock at the door,

there's a bird on the sill,

the smoke

alarm

is going off.

i eat my lunch,

staring into

the screen.

i hear children in the street,

a baby crying.

the neighbors

are fighting again

before they

make love on their

noisy bed.

i'm distracted, delayed.

how will i ever

become the poet laureate

of this great

land

with all of this going on?