—I KNOW THAT WALLS FALL, SHACKS SHAKE, BRIDGES BURN AND BODIES BREAK

 

Match Fire

 

In the trailer

Mother always made sure

we were chilled eyesores

our hollow bones rattling around 

like dull castanets from

the deep freeze

So we turned to fire for a fix

first tossing matches at one another

moving onto Molotov cocktails

torches blowtorches and 

eventually flamethrowers 

where our aim improved

We singed and melted

like ripe gargoyles

all of us putty brothers with

no more time for fist fights 

or bloodletting

us just a pile of flat sludge 

oozing through the door seam

painting each step with 

the triumph of warmth and

our shared obituaries