Wrestling with Red Lights

Slow down? Not in my vocabulary.
I long for instant gratification.
Patience waits in wings of ancillary,
Patients seeking help from recreation.
Staring at my watch—being left behind,
Gazing at stars—envious of their rise,
Climbing the stairs—a one-step frame of mind,
Faith with glassy stares, joy that is despised.
The minutiae requires monitoring,
The minutes tick, time scrolling on a line,
Hourglass sand drip, monikering,
Our fast hands scatter the beach’s shoreline.
Senses heightened, aware of gross mistakes,
Losing my nerve since the first, red headache.