Take a look at the following essay.  Admire this:

…Morrison’s verse sounds like the rhyming dictionary is being stretched to its limits – “mire” and “pyre”, but he refuses to tire or preach to the choir.

Actually it can be any of his many essays.  You get a sense that he’s getting more and more into his subject matter as he’s going along.  He is so prolific — you get a sense that he practically spits out essay after essay, and his saliva turns into fireworks as soon as it leaves his lips. 

I spit out my writing as well.  Only it looks like the staff my daughter spits out.  I can’t edit my scrabbles immediately, because that would be like liking my own puke.  I have to wait several days, and when I go back to my writing I inevitably find several sentence fragments.  By then I have no clue what was originally on my mind.  I’m not completely hopeless, though: I clean up a little, change wording here and there, and my piece improves.  But as far as the blogging goes, I take too much time.