Bring the sea in

Bring the sea in

‘Each page was a new chance to understand the last
And somehow the sea was always there to make you feel stupid’ by David Berman

Sit at a table,
ask your friend what they think,
about things.
And then one thing,
a thing that catches on the corner of conversation,
feeds all back in loops.

Bring the sea in,
pull seaweed out of statements,
provoke whole shoals of questions
to gather under the light fixings,
until the shark stalks in,
hangs above your skeletons,
dorsal fin scouring the ceiling.

Let it rest it's belly on the table, feed it things,
hold its skull and feel for fractures,
place your lovely wrists in its teeth,
hang your weight off its caudal keel.

Let yourself be drawn
out, to the cliff bit
where you say things
you didn't know you think.

Acid clean your thoughts in images,
bully the language into laboratories,
keep you out of it,
with tea and nicotine.

Tell your friend to do better.
Both commit to make something we think.
Risk your safety, cut out all effects,
swim out in front of the king fish
and be a bit of a dick.

Hold the door wide,
invite people to come and sit
at a table, and talk about the things they think,
and then one thing that catches on the corner of conversation,
feeds all back in loops.