I had to count the Spanish Steps in Rome
(I vote with those who say one thirty eight).
And even when I travel close to home,
I count the steps to train from ticket gate.
I chant how many paces in the blocks
around my house, the order of the streets,
the seconds till the microwave unlocks,
how many times the worst of ads repeats.

But I’m not ill – I’m helping pass the time
when I’m engaged in what I’d rather not
or waiting for some buzz or beep or chime.
Enumerating snacks, I count and jot,
but that’s a habit of a different kind
(it lets me get the subject off my mind).