Saturday, February 3, 2018

A Pyromaniacial Glossary

You likely think living in a burning building is a temporary thing. 
No. It's a lifestyle unchosen--a birthright.
Nothing gets old here, that's true--
everyone wears the latest oily rags.

Kiss me, taste my turpentine lip gloss.
True love for ten minutes, 
then a hundred alarms,
a million exits.

Containment? Oh fuck, you're funny.
_______

for Friday 55.


 

9 comments:

belle said...

~one of your hottest

hedgewitch said...

Well, aside from making me cackle maniacally, which is not something to be despised, at all--this seems to hold a mirror up to so many topical narratives, personal, cultural and political, that I defy anyone to put the fire out--yesterday's, today's or tomorrow's--they're all the same, all too hot, too brilliant with glare, and all deadly. Galen would have loved this one, too, Shay-as always, you have the touch.Thanks for playing, and may the rest of your weekend be...well, you know.

Cloudia said...

goddess that's how it feels! would hrh really have been worse? is this a necc medicine? is this the end of the fbi? wants to contract our security out to the kgb........ yeah. living in a burning building.....

brudberg said...

Turpentine lip-gloss... that's on fire.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

OMG. With each poem you outdo yourself. This is amazing.

Ginny Brannan said...

Sounds like a pretty passionate encounter to me!! Burn baby, burn!

Kerry O'Connor said...

Oh my.. That first line! And 'True love for ten minutes'...

You crack me up, Shay.

Magaly Guerrero said...

I'm with Kerry, "True love for ten minutes" while on flames is a bit hysterical. Well, at least until lips start falling off.

Cloudia said...

I love your poem Sorry for the screed. . . . I'm not blaming ANY person for voting their conscience. . . . least of all a friend <3