I need something that makes sense, that will make me whole. These words, that’s what I want. Need is the word. I think of it as simple, straight, nothing else in my head. It is why I get up, stand in the room, move through the streets, reach out to drink. And while I’m trying to keep the eggs evenly out, this is it: a stream of words, where I’m turning and move like I know, inciting right, others assent and are stirred. It’s not that none of the rest matters but that I lose the sense of what really is, what it might be, important made nothing and nothing jacked up, so that I don’t know what I’m doing and may seem like I’m screwing the wind. Everything else is distraction. Yeah, like I’m doing now, a direction, something clear, words published, understood, stamped forward. Yeah, that’s it. That.