Beside me,
a mother & son
play Scrabble
while she explains
the minimum heat required
for spontaneous combustion
—
we wander through metaphors
of Sleeping Beauty’s thorns
and burning hearts
hung on the walls
like something trying
to be beautiful
—
a pilot
in a teacup
green leaves clinging
to the porcelain
curves, telling
no one’s future
but its own
—
thirst is a thing
we cannot escape
there is no blood
without water
—
one last sip,
sweeter than sin
before the lights
go out
– T.H.
Related Links & Things:
For your further enjoyment, the master himself, Jack Kerouac, reading “American Haiku”:
