restive

Today's word is

restive

Urgh.  The things that are keeping me from timely completing this exercise each day are making me restive.

No, that doesn't count as a poem; I'm not even sure it makes sense.  Damn, but I have a lot of catching up to do.  Fortunately, I don't think anyone else is paying attention this year.

*****

Wednesday, 7:19 p.m.

Hurray!  The last of my blank days filled in.

my restive heart
my most scarlet muscle
it wants to do what it wants to do

it's more afraid than it lets on
afraid of being noticed and stopped

it pitters all flighty in its flesh cage
as though beside itself
over something

all my other muscles
ache together in one sluggish mass
as though extruded from stone

my blood is liquor of stone

my mind a lint trap

but my heart
my restive heart
apparently knows something
all else in me does not
flutters in anticipation
of future joys and fears
or perhaps only of its next
nervous little beat
frightening itself in its own red mirror
almost before it finishes
each word