Undisciplined Habits Of Mind

In a similar way

a blur of colour moves,

thought breaks apart, 

until words on a page combine.

In the foreground

I picture several things but wait

for some form of meaning to amass.

Already how much heavier

my thinking becomes, even before

the imagination is able to pin down a vocabulary.

My mind sweats, shape-shifting words

in an effort to create a language equal to the breadth

of that particular vision in a similar way a blur of colour moves.