Somebody is grafitting the walls down by the docks. The docks are deep, the docks are deep, the docks are deep to let the ships in and for… Somebody is writing “I’m not well Please talk” on the walls. See inside, inside and outside, is silence and noise. The noise and the silences of one into the silences and noise of the many as one. Whoever wrote it doesn’t even own it now, once it is on the walls.
Please talk, I’m not well enough to know how to say
But even if the words are mixed up they will stay
Hanging on to conversations, stations of the chain
Dangling on the edge of consciousness and its remains
Please talk I’m not well enough to begin the day
A million impulses hold me under their sway
Hanging on to loose connections, precious guessing games,
Their rules are deep shape shifting every time we play
I know I was born ready if only I could keep steady
Prop me up and push me on, we’ll go marching to cushy songs
Please talk I’m not well enough to express my fears,
And it seems impossible to change how this ship steers
Hanging on to definitions of the stuff I love
Why are we always somewhere else making some shit up?
Please talk I’m not well enough for another round
Let me lie here on this canvas losing pound for pound
Hanging on to normality see it all collapse
Ambivalence impending momentary lapse
I know I was born ready if only I could keep steady
Prop me up and push me on, we’ll go marching to cushy songs
To face into the wind inventing fables that might mend me gently
trace the lines that lead me here, harvest debt and borrowed ears.
Please talk I’m not well it’s just how these things work out
SO it goes and goes and ghosts who knock our lives about.