A Correlation

There is such a thing as Kinesthetic Intelligence.
It was the thing I was teased about in school.
My clumsiness, my doppy failure to cut straight lines
Or make neat letters.
From there, not being able to do the basic
Things the other kids could,
I failed to produce any quality work.
My sloppy handwriting was unreadable,
Or I wrote too slow to keep up in class.
Today, I try to work---
Whether as a Tree Trimmer, or a Laundry Worker
Or a Painter---it isn't waking up early
That I can't do. I actually like waking up early.
It's something deeper. It's the actual work
I fail to do right. I have no sense of body movement;
No sense of where my body is
Or where it was before.
I shoot the paper wad into the trashcan
Six or seven times before it ever goes in.
I feel like such an idiot.
I see my work, and I know it's not going to get better.
Sooner or later, the closets are going to be in disarray,
My sloppy folds will be wrinkled, and it will just get worse.
In painting, my body doesn't know which place I went before.
I have no sense of where I've been, or where I'm going.
In tree trimming---chainsaws and falling logs---
Are not a good place for me to be.
I look at my intelligence, 
And it seems the best job for me is right here.
My intelligence is in the top percentiles
For Verbal, Intrapersonal and Existential intelligence.
For Interpersonal and Natural intelligence
I'm in the nineties.
Writing is my gift---
If America is the land of opportunity,
Then I ought to be able to feed myself from this.
My mind isn't high in Mathematical Intelligence.
This is what I need.