..set it off like a funeral pyre,

intoxicated on ether like fumes of gasoline

 

--I heard it said

that's what to do

once it's done

until it's dead...

 

and everyday, still,

I watch as you arrive back home

 

clutching a brown paper sack

before an opened door

 

the blinding bright specter

inside, of life left behind

 

standing momentarily picturesque

within a flashcloud of ash and dust.