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Tuesday, January 30, 2007

Fire Literati

ghosts come into the room
shuffling the starlight,
clichéd light,
I don't want stars
when I've seen the moon,

I hurry the inhumane lights
to go out of the door,
my feet wonder
if they should go too,

now I don't want the moon, too,

secondhand shine borrowed
from the hottest star,
a caravan of circus emotions
rumble up and down,
I breathe deeply,

air gives me life
I give air body,
the fire literati
in a watered down soul
tries to quote some joy,

yet hope, bread for the masses,
leaves me feeling hungry,
my bed comes to take me,
knees weak, I give in,
I put my heart out for the night;

left outside of love.

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