The Burning Flower

a burning flower, I saw it
in my dreams, dancing in the air,
folding and unfolding like a
butterfly's careless wings, dissolving
and reforming, or changing shapes in
a wistful fashion
but oh, the blue and ghostly flame!
licking the whitish funnel smooth as of
colored creme
-- desperate, like the falling of a fountain
	of youth when then I was ready
	to reach for it
	   but the flower flew away

	Worm's Eye View

Love laid eggs in my ears
and those soft words
	became fitful worms
to consume my brain
and its pink fold
	with pupal swift-grown malice
so debility became art
	after all

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16 Renford Road
Page 18