Rambling Monologues (Revised) Poem by Margaret Alice Second

Everything I do feels off-beam, unnecessary activity,
as if the prerequisites essential for doing things right
have yet to be determined; I cannot calm down and
concentrate for work - nor explain the feeling of total
confusion

I leap from book to book, cannot find a true origin of
anything, feel as if I have got hold of the wrong end
of the universe where all really important issues have
yet to be addressed; without real beginnings formally
expressed all is lopsided and askew

My mind in a chaotic whirl with the spin increasing
still, I am restless, flustered and overcome, cannot
begin a meaningful conversation or find the right way
to end rambling monologues echoing in my head…