Every Writer Has an Obsession

Paralyzed by the inconsistency of action
In an imperfect world -- or perhaps in a perfect world,
Silver globe by star-shine, by the moonlight --

But certainly weary, these verses come too easily
Of one thing, and then the contrary, synthesis
In contradiction, mind games, word games,

Finding and refining terms. Fatigue rules the brain,
Roosts on the higher towers, pulls on the steamer,
Runs through the engines, and his long laugh

Echoes across lanes. How can a course
Lead off course, the topic, off-topic, utopic,
Nowhere? Pigeons perched on 'sailed and soiled

Lines, sagging on long distances, drooping
Like lids, like mouths droop, looping
Through a limping tongue, and all my words are dun.