I had a friend who kept a candle in his pocket,
he used to touch it when the wind was blowing high,
I guess it made him feel
like he could buck the system
and when it flickered out we laid him down to die,
turn on the light,
turn on a
million blinding brilliant white incendiary lights,
a beacon in the night,
I'll burn relentlessly until my juice runs dry
I'll construct a rack of tempered beams and trusses
and equip it with a million tiny suns,
I'll install upon the roof
of my compartment
and place tinfoil on my floor and on my walls,
then I'll turn on the light.....
and I'll
burn like a roman f*****g candle,
like a chasm in the night,
for a miniscule duration,
ecstatic immolation,
incorrigible delight
