The Maybe-Virtues of Setting Yourself on Fire

The world over smells like wet ink

as I eat plain yogurt under California

skies. There’s so much to dream about

in this year’s dissection, such infinities already dreamed 

up in the yesterday-parts.

You say I’m so important 

to you, friend-wise, and here I’m stuck 

thinking how my face is a cement 

house w/ busted pipes leaking plumberless

so lightly. In preschool, Mrs. Something told me not to look

sun in its eyes so I didn’t, but its light bled 

into everything till the whites turned lavender.

I loved imagining the sun

most after nightfall. And Martin says, like black glass, your first love 

tints all the rest, so I made habit of not looking at Brooke

for fear of dazzle.

The stars were when I learned

the beauty of proclaiming undying love for dead things, 

dead a hundred years like cities, Paganini’s violin and cheerful

grandmas, love even for my love long-dead.

And now, 10 o’clock the green trees 

are pulled into harsh collage with stoplights and say

“look at the sun, go forth, go

blind you daydreamer and wrap your cement 

face in flames. That cold middle’s gotta 

melt somehow, so make with the

insulation, lazy bones; no one'll love you less

when you’re dead if you burn, try it.” 

and the ink sky 

drips its poems in.

Reviews

[Jillian Angel Sandoval]

Slower read, but beautifully written. Lovely piece.

[Nadia B.]

Firstly I hope by the fire you mean inspiration wise rather than truly setting oneself on fire, but still this is an incredibly poem. The way the story is told, the interesting break of the lines, ignoring the stop start of the punctuation and allowing one to run read it through. It actually invokes your writing voice, so that I feel (thought I have never heard your voice) I am somehow able to 'hear' you. Im interested in your line "love even for my old love in coffins!" Had to read this a few times over just to capture all the imagery it held. I'm so happy though you ended your poem as strongly as you began it, "and the ink sky drips its poems in." Marvelous talent, thank you for sharing!

[Sydney]

Very contemplative and emotional. I felt almost a strain in this. Definitely a thoughtful piece, I enjoyed reading and pondering it

[B]

And Martin says, like black glass, your first
love tints all the rest, so I made habit of not looking at Brooke
for fear of dazzle

Beautiful lines ..... the fear of dazzle
Lovely poem