you pry apart the lips
of a fifty cent lawn chair
garage sale bargain
lock jawed with sea air
there's nothing in this town
but a lost child's theater
you'd passed my house
a thousand times
though you didn't know
i lived there
why does it take
fifty foot flames
for us to walk across the street
to learn
our neighbors names
the shingles slide like playing cards
the windows melt like taffy
the door frames snap like toothpicks
smoke bitter brown as coffee
you're flushed with blush- igneous
fire fingers flick at us
we take a turn to watch it burn
a heated urn
to love
love
we love to learn
we learn to burn
we burn to learn
we burn to learn
you pry apart the lips
of a fifty cent lawn chair
garage sale bargain
lock jawed with sea air
