I had meant for this poem to be an allegory originally, but as I began writing it I realized I was bored with allegory. So I tried to make it more of a wash of imagery. I tried to relate emotions I wanted understood with the images rather than have specific meanings for everything I wrote. Unfortunately, it still turned out to be something of an allegory, but it’s different from the one’s I’ve done in the past. I don’t really want it to be interpreted as much as I’d like it to be rolled around in the mouth like a caramel. Does it strike up any emotions? It does for me, but that’s because I wrote it. I think the things that have specific meanings are obvious, but there is stuff in there that was put in to bring out the tones that the metaphors rest in. I don’t know. I’m trying something new.
Smoke-shaped Seahorse
I saw a fire today from the highway
and the smoke coming from it looked like a seahorse.
I thought it was a dragon at first,
but it was definitely a seahorse.
It just needed a minute to develop
and make me believe.
I couldnt tell where the fire
was coming from, but I hoped
it was a good fire and not the kind
that starts in your stove
and ends up killing your pets.
Or the kind that eats you while you sleep.
I took the exit that seemed like it would
get me closest to the street the fire was on.
I could smell it then. When the wind was right.
Was I inhaling burnt bits of rug or the dust
from a charred and neglected guinea pig?
I ended up following a fire truck.
I arrived late to the show.
People perimetered the glowing building,
some on rooftops, some on an adjacent hill.
Rivers of water poured from the building
that seemed to fill its mouth, then let it drain
out the corners like a hemorrhage .
It was a family-owned plant nursery.
The roof was gone and from on the hill
I could see a chair in the middle of a room.
It wasnt getting burned even though the fire
danced at least two stories above it.
I watched it vibrate and hum in the flames.
I stared at it for twenty minutes.
It didnt change and nobody else
seemed to notice the chair at all.
I blinked. I changed my angle.
I did a pirouette and a somersault.
It waited there cooly still.
I came up to the building and firemen
were yelling at me to go away.
They didnt expect it when I walked inside.
I didnt burn. I just felt warm everywhere.
I walked to the center of the room
to where the chair was and I sat in it.
I drew my legs up and tilted my head back.
I could see the night through the tunnel of fire.
I could see Virgo with her wheat.
The chair creaked and I looked down.
It was so bright I could barely make out
the fire that had caught on my shirtsleeve.
I felt a thousand needles diving into my skin.
I stood to leave when a boiling gust
knocked me over and disintegrated the chair.
Lying on my side, I wondered at how long
itd take for my fingernails to melt.
A man dressed in silver saved me.
People crowded around me so I
got up and walked back to my car.
I wanted to drive with the windows open.
I wanted to go and sit back in that chair.
It never existed, only the glowing red
I could still see in my mirror.
I came to the highway,
flicked on my blinker.
