Something to Do

My hands are restless and the rest of me follows
My list is getting shorter, and I am getting anxious
A distraction, the next distraction please,
I'm getting uncomfortably close to thinking
About the overflow at work
And the throbbing in my temple
And the bumper on my car
And the letter I got yesterday
Which brought up mounting insecurities
Except they were there already
Oh Discomfort on Discomforts!
The people who can't be there always
And my poor lisping stammering tongue
And the way everything tends to die
And people lose their interest
And the way loneliness can crowd me out
Far better than any cold shoulder could
And the fact that we're all poised to dive
Off the edge of that pit of spikes
Am I the only one who sees this?
Maybe I can cover my eyes again
Maybe I can pretend it's all right again
If I can just find one more little indulgence
To keep my busy little hands scribbling
And my restless mind at rest.