Friday, May 11, 2007

"Because It's Probably True": First non-sonnet post

Because It's Probably True

If suddenly the room burst into flames
orange ivy climbed the curtains
black clouds rolled up and out
and hair floating on waves of heat
crinkled, shrunk away
while everyone obliviously slunk between table and chair bedroom and bath beer tub snack bowl ("Nice party, what's this dip?") while at their backs a cataclysm only I could (in this problem) see--
It takes an effort of imagination to feel my arms go up to see my jaw drop to (hypothetically) taste soot ozone methane new sweat on my dry tongue taking the breath with which I'll shout:
"Hey! Fire!"
I've always been the quiet one.
Of course once if I edging toward the door a dampened napkin pressed under my nose saw that no one had noticed (incredibly) the blackening ceiling the cd player plastic bubbling like Yosemite mud (I know, but just bear with me) nothing except perhaps some dizziness and the fact that the softwhite sandwiches suddenly are toasted
then of course would I pop the lock murmuring, as I stepped outside to cool air wet grass green trees that someone maybe ought to call somebody and I've had a great time, thanks, but by the way, some of you might think about
because it's getting late and a work night and the kitchen is on fire and after all, no one wants to be an ash, hahaha--
But seriously.
I would do it. If I had to.
But even in this dream it ends like this:
everyone turning to stare and smirk or frown or pucker their lips and (even as their flesh cooks off their bones
"Well. Someone needs


ThatGreenyFlower said...

You are pissing me off with your adroit handling of multiple forms of poetry, you litany of literature. You're a genre-flipper, too, aren't you?...Got a novel somewhere and a bunch of short stories, don't you... Well, to hell with you, demon genius.

middleclasstool said...

That really is damn good, Scott.