hangmans day

i awoke alone
my lover gone
to a carnival
in the great south
singing with her witches circle
at a blews feestivale
of all things
i drag my sorry self from bed
at the usual moment
just before the alarm
(who were a cool band in the distant past)
its five thirty and the ground is wet from the nights rain
i am so attached it seems
i can't settle or
vanish
into my morning nothingness
littilies demands are met
my need for caffine
satisfied
but no attention
do i have
the buddha would be
most upset
and the day draws
on
and i fill the spaces with sound
the church
bowie
weller
the regular gentleman of my acquatitance
but
great as they are
the longing for her
naws silently
like an insidious disease
or the slow steady steps
of the hangman
and i am at
dis-ease
at last the sun
leaves me alone
the sky is pensive
fitting i think
and i can soon sleep
waiting for tomorrow
and her
return.