The Ash hangs heavy in the air
And dying light sinks to the floor
There to rest forevermore
So little it laid bare.


In deepest chasm lies undisturbed
An elemental cindered self
With carbon limbs
Like snapped twiglets.
His rasping breath scarce heard.


That same tired story through blistered lips:
“I did my best. What else remains?
I gave my all, am repaid in pain
And no more can be outward ripped

From this cindered frame.


No barbecue ribs, no pound of flesh,
And no more bleeding hearts. Enmesh
My mind and cauterize my shame

For I have played my goddamned part.


Have seen the world gutted by fire
With eyes that once burned with desire,
Have cracked my silver plate

With bloodless hands icicle-spired,


Have heard the flames crackle, respire
With ears listening as to a choir;
And finally have screamed gunfire
With rattling serpent's tongue inspired.


And at the end, the fire is out,
The ice is coming now.
And yet I doubt
If at last I rest my weary brow
That I'll at last lie unaware.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written in Chile

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