A Concentration Problem

Cecily Iddings

I long

to know heuristically

my anchor said

so she reported


first noting the cold front

beyond the fence

then investigating the optical illusion

of waves or concentric rings

caused by the narrowness

of the pickets.

Soon she collected

owl pellets

the producer prised

open almost with a gaze

with spectacular glances.

In dark glasses at a protest

she interviewed an escapee

asking did he cry before flight

and when the break

in the chain link appeared

who did he call

and who came?

My anchor wanted children.

My producer an expert administrator

stopped the tape

and rewound to

I think every minute

every day I am


which the escapee

had lowered his voice

and looked grateful to say.

He became a special feature

then a clip to play

on holidays. The anchor appears

as a bare arm and a microphone.

The producer cut out

the dull bits and I am the edge

of his edits.