Friday, October 9, 2009

Votive Moment

As to dynamite --- they have fuses
As to candles, they have wicks

A wick is but a rope
encased in paraffin, a worm of sorts
that fire eats.

See the match's cherry head burst like solar
Out of respect, lower your eyes

It's not about sex nor drugs
It's the solemnity
of pyromania

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