Wednesday, April 27, 2011

The Burning

I keep the fire going
with sugar packets and gum wrappers
scrape the bottom of my purse
for goldfish crackers and crumpled tissues
a Starbucks napkin
a receipt for a swimsuit
I haven’t worn yet

I rip out the blank pages
from my spiral notebook
and feed them to the flames

silent people crowd the cold room
nodding at my notebook
too thin with straggling pages
they can’t help me
or don’t want to
but watch me struggle, scrabble for scraps

sticky lollipop sticks, ticket stubs
to that horrible show
that didn’t make me laugh
until there’s nothing left
nothing else to do but throw it in
my notebook
the words curling and darkening
fading into the satisfied smoke


  1. When all else fails or seems unsatisfying, there's always writing and the "burning" of mundane, monotony it may provide. Excellent details.

  2. burn it all. perhaps then the memories will fade or at least be obscured by the smoke...wicked write and enjoyed the little textures to everything you pulled out...

  3. burning can be kinda of cleansing ...but i'm always amazed at the rubbish we have in our handbags..Shame about the notebook tho
    Thank you

  4. I'm reminded that in Maslow's hierarchy of needs, poetry would be towards the top of the pyramid. If I were freezing in the Arctic, I wonder if I'd burn my writing if it meant I'd live a half an hour longer. Probably not. :D

  5. On the pyre you gave you words for the world to feed!

  6. Burning is a sort of cleansing and the burning of words just might cleanse the heart of memories and make room for brand new ones...

  7. what strikes me most about this is the sense of aloneness, even with all the other people in the room... no one wanting to help, nothing but your own art to feed the flames... powerful details here.