"Start something," he said
"and let me add to it."
You fucker.
If you want something
you should want it enough to start it
to light the fuse
to give the punch
to lift a finger;
any finger.
Instead, you come to me.
You want my ideas
strip-mind
invasive consumption
you want to take what I have
what I am
and make something of it
build something of it.
build something
am I nothing but bricks for your house
mud for your bricks?
If I wanted to be changed
transformed
I would offer myself to your alchemically sculpting hands
your defining chisel
your drying pen.
But what would you say
(what would you make of it)
if I were to tell you that I'd rather remain
as mud?