Weird Poetry

It will be

An exorcism

By fire —

Burning inky black words


Charring countless pages —

Their dog-eared corners curling in the coals

And fuming with spent ghosts and emptied soul-hells

That aren’t even mine.

I am

No longer in possession

Of those words and pages.

They are as gone as my mind was

Before I struck the match

And threw it into the stove.




*** More fire, Sweet Cheeks? Not bored of it yet? ***

*** I think I am done with fire now… but not for long. Never for long…. ***

6 thoughts on “Exorcised

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