give me a song to write, a single word
to tell a story; give me a reason
for the semblance of cluttered, lonely thoughts.
give me a strong needle, through which to thread
every similar crime of consciousness.
let the pressure beating at my brain cease;
let my pulsing heart beat as expected.
bore into my skull; pick off and pour out
every thought and secret and memory.
lay them out as if a bountiful meal.
make them palatable to a person
other than i. O watcher, please, a song!
or a story, maybe a poem, or
a single verse! A treatise perhaps? Or
a novel? Maybe even a stage-play!
o watcher, quiet it! O quiet it!
let it give way to a calm, separate peace.