run on (for a long time) in poetry

poems are songs,
songs are poems,
everything is everything else,
we just use words as an organizing shorthand
to make things move faster,
never misconstrue that speed for accuracy,
we can’t know where a particle is and
where it’s going at the same time either,
it’s all just shorthand.
useful in the moment but not a real thing.
we are words that are wording
we are sings that are songing
we sing songs of longing.
all the songs are songs of longing,
all of the good ones anyway.
all the really great songs are about hands reaching out,
brushing against but never grasping,
warbling in the video feed of human lives
taped over themselves over and over again,
so many have been there reaching,
you are reaching but there’s glitches in
the fact it happened the same way every time,
on top of on top of on top,
we are the background static in the repeating
of the glitching songs of longing,
the only really good songs anyway.
poems are songs,
songs are poems,
words are words are words and
all the best words are words of longing,
yearning,
never quite holding on because
those words are the truest words,
the truest strongest words,
the truest feeling of being alive is
that almost-happy not-quite-sad desperate
need for something you can’t quite describe
or admit or reach,
in every powerful turn of speech
there is longing long long longing.
there are regrets that are poems
there are people that are songs
so the world spins
all day longing longing long.