Issue
#4

July
2009

a poem by Burgess Needle

DAY'S ABSORBED FIRE

Even if the frozen moon is
slashed
the released cool thrust
will never fell
the army of low-riding
hot rocks cruising the highways
desert creatures hide in day
from the blinding sun
only people face
fools to think it will not erupt
from their loins or bake
them dry on the wrong end
of dead end streets
streams of freezing star light
do not quench this heat
this Tucson evening fever
seeping from the heads
of snoring tramps burning
searing their lips as they exhale
the day's absorbed fire

© Burgess Needle

 printer-friendly