"Ah, are you in touch? Can you move a mountain with your tongue? Have you heard a rope tighten like a cord stretched too far as if it's about to break? Have you ever heard a mountain cry with its teeth?
The full moon came and went yet you still want to believe, but that's a hard rocket of concern buried somewhere beyond all concern. And then to stumble and sneeze like a rocket and know you are beyond your concern, yet you still want to believe and play a handsome tune for the crowd who come to listen.
Growing old sneaks up on you while you're living and you don't notice it until it's too late.
Then it's time to forget about what's been lost and write the memoirs in the time that's left.
The Yeti's asleep on the foggy beach and the holy nail is saying its prayers as the cloaked dagger slips by in the shadows and the lesbionage of a number ten bus three crows short of a straight line calls you to come home," said the rusty prayer out on the night.
"Amen," said the meow cat.