knit on the brain

apparently knitting has imbued itself into my writing as well. i must admit i have written more than one knit-thematic poem in the last couple months. here's one.

for whom do my raw hands lumber around two
simple sticks of bamboo
these could be twigs, i think. or
chopsticks. would my hands know the
difference?
my fingers curl over lusty weighted fibers
and cramp without my noticing.
my half-hewn projects like half-finished
sentences linger, dance on the brain and
beg the question -- might...
could i tear words asunder the way i can
these hand-knit messes...i just may
choose a mangled mass of words
over a neatly constructed failure.