Everyone Wants To Burn

Everyone Wants to Burn


Every day I devote myself
to her,
thunder shreds
my gauze dining room curtains;
bison clouds
nudge power lines
and suburban warehouses.

Everyone wants to burn
as bright as blue plumes
billowing from I-95 Philadelphia
sanitation incinerators
at 7 AM,
rush hour.

But, today, the road not taken
is the only road left.

So, my fellow horses of instruction,
shake your gilded halters
if you must
but beware
that beautiful blue wolves prowl
these beautiful blue hills
we’re so fond of calling home,
and remember that the scam
always unfolds
when you least expect it.

However, for the scam to become
a legitimate scam
it first must pass
the test of guard dogs
fast asleep on Sunday piles
of unironed laundry.

But let me tell you,
68 pounds of determined dog
can relax like nobody’s business
atop wrinkled denim asses
and ungodly wads of barracuda-
striped business shirts
quietly shielding at least three pairs
of slightly-stained and exhausted,
khaki illusions.


Alan Britt

Posted over on Ken Again