Author and columnist Shelly Reuben

Poem by Shelly Reuben

Multitask, I cannot do;

I can perform one task. Not two.

I cannot throw a ball and talk.

Or chew a piece of gum and walk.

They say our brains are right and left.

But of gray matter, I’m bereft

If I must use both sides at once,

The very act proves me a dunce.

Can I solve problems while I drive?

Not if I want to stay alive!

I need to focus on my map

If I’m to get to where I’m at.

If I should cook while on the phone,

To burn the food, I’m surely prone;

I cannot ride my bike and drink.

I cannot smile and also wink.

When I am cooking up a roast

For dinner, of which I’m the host,

I might for conversation yearn,

But if we chat; the roast would burn.

There is one thing, though, I can do,

In multiples of one and two.

I can think. And I can write

With pen in hand, my fancy’s flight

Creates such things as never were

(To others, they would not occur.)

Tales with mysteries about who

His lover, someone else had slew.

Valiant heroes. Maidens … meek.

Treasures that the bold would seek.

Trees that talk. A cow, of course,

Who’s certain that she is a horse.

Once I wrote of death in life …

A scientist who saved his wife.

I also like to write of fire.

Char and wreckage. Muck and mire.

And I dreamed up (within a cart)

A man who hauled his large glass heart.

I wrote, as well, some epic poems.

Ballads, sagas, songs, and tomes.

So, of the things I cannot do

In multiples of one and two,

One stands apart. A happy sight,

For I, at least, can think and write!

Copyright © Shelly Reuben, 2025. Shelly Reuben’s books have been nominated for Edgar, Prometheus, and Falcon awards. For more about her writing, visit www.shellyreuben.com