“My nerves are bad to-night. Yes, bad. Stay with me.
Speak to me. Why do you never speak? Speak.
What are you thinking of? What thinking? What?
I never know what you are thinking. Think.”

I think we are in rats’ alley
Where the dead men lost their bones.

We hunger and thirst for relationship
Conversation, companionship
We hope to know, even more to be known

Struggling to escape the banal, angry, and sad
Too often settling for shared space and a strong drink
We want inspiration, exaltation, and dancing