My mind rotates, it always has
With an urgency, a desire
For a swift completeness
Of the business at hand
The buzzing bee defeats all hope
Of quiet contemplative writing
Where ample time would be taken
For reflection and deeper consideration
No, it must be done quickly
It must be put out there
Before it is anywhere near fully formed
The energy of the moment must dominate
This hectic, hurried, muddled approach
To words is my gift
It is what I must give to you
Straightaway
