At this rate, I’m never going to burst into flames (a poem)

COLD again this morning…

Fire and water flow
in parallel
towards the same destination
with opposite ends

How much they carry with them depends on the fuel

There’s no motion in the ocean deep enough
to roil the hidden currents
or dredge up the sediment kept down
for safety’s sake

I don’t know what I mean by that
when I’ve been struck dumb
circumstances don’t register
the way they used to
and metaphor is only a bunch of words strung together

How much they carry with them depends on the fuel

The connecting threads don’t reveal themselves
until I start pulling
when I get to the end
I can’t submerge myself deep enough in the current
to start the blood flowing again

I don’t like feeling cold

(9 November 2018)


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