Sam Adams
Where are the ones to spray the flame?
With a stream of fluid
From a plastic bottle held in the hand.
Close enough to the now crazed blaze
To singe the unprotected skin.
But, not backing away or flinching,
Instead, with a flourish of the hand,
And expressionless élan,
Take the fuel from the fire,
And then fan the flames with breath.
No comments:
Post a Comment