Fidgeting is exercise of sorts
Shouting words that are considered coarse
Sex is better standing on your head
Gravity is better than your bed.

Skipping classes, running out of milk
Jumping in alarm, or clicking links
Walking out on lovers in a rage
Stalking those whose worth you cannot gauge

Printing errors, boiling over milk
Washing up your shirt if it is silk
Oiling the agenda and the wheels
Covering up our nerves with rolling steel

Helter skelters, slides and rolling balls
Having rows that drive me up the wall.
Fidgeting and tapping on a board
Kicking habits, tripping over cords

Playing on my feelings with your airs see
Keeping lustful men upon the stairs
Sitting on the loo and crawling out
Menstruating monthly, drinking stout

Poring over maps with ruined eyes
Keeping up, rotatating all your toes
Feeling lively touching up your walls
Churning out Epistles for St Paul

Movement keeps us going as we bathe
Diving through the deep green of a wave
Counting shells and mines and heads of cod
Making kippers,salting fishing rods

Writing letters on a sweatshirt front
Writing me ,advising who to haunt
Making fountain pens to write with ink
Letting rubber boots dry in the sink

We can’t keep still ,so mindfulness is bad
Until the end when all are mindful dead