I am going two miles per hour if you
were to look at me, that is, whereas
the mind races in much the way Formula 1
is about parking cars, but I am attempting
a very laconic kind of motion
as I am seated on chair, at desk, with
writing on my agenda, perhaps
a little practice of sorts, and a notion
to try to relax, but I did the thing
I am bad with, and it has had an
effect I dislike, and I am an unsure
antsy fellow, who is a bit wired now,
and this is annoying, but overcomeable
for it has to be, or I am scuppered.