Tilt a whirling indeed - what a turn around. I feel the same about my move this year.
Alarm bells ring as in the pen
Worried neural grooves
run to some wrong some lack
In cat stance I prepare for attack
though so steeped in abundance
I ought to jump and dance
Recognising that your brain is firing old pathways is the first step, right? I love how you worked out this dilemma in poetry, condensing it to such an image. Jump and dance, my friend, as you know you ought
RE: Backward Thomas and Once I Had a Container – New Poetry