my spark
always there beneath me
(in the cracked asphalt)
when my body burned to ash
circles in the pavement
amid the nicotine and pilsner aftermath
how little it meant
water, music, naked skin
outshined by the sputtering ignition
of a gas-fed Bic
horns blared
soles scuffed gravel
(jumping)
flagpoles rattled at the armory
they gasped
applauding my combustion
shop kids war-whooped as i crackled
two-fingered whistling
(i unraveled)
jacked-up tires screeching
my red, white, and blue flames faded (extinguished)
but for a moment
my wings wider
my flame brighter
(i flew)
Nick Viau 