learning to breathe underwater

here i arrive at the border of language,
where nothing need be said
that hasn't been said before.
there were all those times i wrote about
how much i loved you
like you were some exotic fruit or flower;
all those times i wrote about
how sad and broken i was without you
like i was some abandoned railcar in the rain;
all those times i had no one to love
except my confused and inadequate self
and my tireless yearning for some distant tomorrow.

happy happy joy joy lovely love fluff.
sad sad lonesome lonely heartachy guff.
marathon of longing and reaching for thin air stuff.

PUFF!!

here i declare my lack of words for such things,
my complete and utter disinterest
in that shambolic state of anarchy. and let's face it:
love, heartbreak, longing, it is all anarchy.
who can agree upon any colorful or even inordinary
terms for such trivial and trifling affairs?

no, today is much more than all of that.
i celebrate my woodstove with a glass of voluptuous wine
and the pleasures of hash-laden tobacco.
i welcome the frogs who keep me up all night
with their incessant echoing song.
i am enraptured with the revelations
of a saxophone solo falling out of coltrane's brain.
what else do i need? a lover with amorous eyes
and soft curves enticing me into her bliss,
or an ex-lover on my mind, weighing anchor
in my seascape, or the desultory longing
that accompanies fallow times like these
like standing ashore and wishing for some distant horizon?

please...i got a pen with green ink
and no words for such sordidness.
i want only to sit here by my fire and forget
all of that, at least for a day, a week, maybe
a month even, at least until
i can learn to breathe underwater.