I was just going through some of my earlier poems and discovered this one, from my first published collection Trash Picker on Mars.* It reminds me of my early days as a writer when in my rush to fill the page with words I did not always take the time to find exactly the right ones. Like many young writers, I was more in love with the idea of being a writer than the writing itself.
*You can read more about this book and others on my book page.