le feu
I have a lighter from France.
it has a little picture of L'arc de Triomphe.
it is a souvenir I wasn't supposed to have
from a trip I couldn't go on with a club
I didn't belong to for a class I wasn't in.
but this is the best lighter.
you press a button down and he shoots up
the perfect flame.
I press the button down and I feel the most triumphant.
Every word I write, the ink sinks into this paper.
my hands move without me needing to think at all.
my trusty little flame. my little French lighter.
I give it toomuchpower--
I give it too much credit.
I pressed the button and felt inspired, really.
do you believe that? I felt compelled, urged, moved
to write down a little diddy about this powerful lighter.
with one push, with my thumb, I could set this poem
on fire, really set my thoughts to flame.
it made me create, it could help me destroy.
instead, I seduce the boys who ask for lights for their
toxic sticks that I, too, sometimes smoke.
it has a little picture of L'arc de Triomphe.
it is a souvenir I wasn't supposed to have
from a trip I couldn't go on with a club
I didn't belong to for a class I wasn't in.
but this is the best lighter.
you press a button down and he shoots up
the perfect flame.
I press the button down and I feel the most triumphant.
Every word I write, the ink sinks into this paper.
my hands move without me needing to think at all.
my trusty little flame. my little French lighter.
I give it toomuchpower--
I give it too much credit.
I pressed the button and felt inspired, really.
do you believe that? I felt compelled, urged, moved
to write down a little diddy about this powerful lighter.
with one push, with my thumb, I could set this poem
on fire, really set my thoughts to flame.
it made me create, it could help me destroy.
instead, I seduce the boys who ask for lights for their
toxic sticks that I, too, sometimes smoke.