I still repeat words you said to me over in my head.
And now I only speak in tongues,
For few understand the ramblings of a loveless madman.

I was running,
You were chasing,
You ran out of breath,
I never realised you'd given up.

We are hopeless lovers
Distraught in worlds of unimaginable alone-ness
And I only want you.
I only want you.
And you are not here.

He looked up-pointing
ah moon
He said

You know it was bright and early
morning
and sure enough
far off and unassuming
ah moon

Not even full
or very impressive
Washed out if that helps

But he got it
He knows
At this ridiculous tender impossible age

That the moon is the moon
luminous and heavy
full on the evening horizon
facing any whichway

silver orange ghostly
imposing
left right high low
day or night

And when it is black
New and gone
He's never asked me
where it went.

All my poems are gone
and my friends left, too--
maybe I'll **** myself because
I'm feeling pretty blue.
I know it shouldn't matter
I know I shouldn't care;
they're just words on a page
and thoughts in the air.
But maybe my life was saved
inside each one,
a catalog,
an encyclopedia,
I miss them a ton.
But I sail away
on my cheetah print sheets
to a passed out land of
marijuana dreams and
inebriated streets.