Give me, give me, give me stories, that sing, simple and
better than the grey everyday, too tired to think, standing,
and having to listen to the shit people say on the bus when
you forget your headphones.
Give me fear, give me fear, big black heavy hearted
fear, give me failing schools, killer spiders, credit cards, give me
money markets, cutbacks, gas shortages, give me early redundancy,
calculate my pension. Laugh.
Give me, give me, give me my working class hero, give me
essex tones and words you have to google, and forget the easy one liners
about some fit bird. Give me my clown, give me my clown,
give me the only thing that can speak to power, caper.
Give me giving up. Give me no more. Give me no reason,
give my vote back, give me a democracy
that is unticked boxes, give no common language, give
me a brick to throw, give me a breaking window.
It looks like the line described in the air by an object that is both surprising and inevitable.
Give me that intake of breath
That first step
Give me him then
And let me hold his face in my hands
Let me whisper that I know that we sort of hate ourselves
This thing we have built, it sort of makes us hate ourselves.
And we see ourselves in others.
And we know we can do better.
That’s why.
Give me the night sky. Give me clear northern skies and
when you can’t bring them down, give me London drizzling
under distant light reflected in the river and the wind
that pushes us both together. Complicatedly.
And when you can’t give me complication, give me difficult
context, give me not knowing and having to weigh, and push,
pull, and test, earn, try my strength and break, and then try again.
And when you fall, know I will pick you up. And we will both try harder.
Give me a revolution made out of everyone deciding to be a little kinder.
Give me the moment, the last moment you let someone change your mind.
Give me the love, the love, the most love you’ve felt in a moment, give me that memory like a charging iPhone used to warm our hands. Give me a difficult story. Give me complicated heroes. Remind us whose hands made this thing that we’re holding. Find a place to begin.