The Book Burning
They were throwing books onto the fire.
They were pouring lighter fluid onto the flames.
Streams of lighter fluid shooting across space
like the Tholian Web in Star Trek. The flames brightened
for a moment and crackled with renewed vigor. The crowd
cheered, taking their cue from the flames.
Even though it was a chilly evening and people were dressed
in mufflers, beanies and sweaters, some of the men shouted
“show your tits,” which some of the little ladies did.
This inspired another round of books and lighter fluid.
“God damned Mark Twain,” somebody muttered.
“Henry Miller can go to hell for all I care,” shouted
a chick with a John Wayne face. Then a guy, strode up
through the circle of people, hands full of DVD’s.
Tried dropping them onto the bon fire.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” said a man wearing a
windbreaker that read SECURITY.
“Whatcha got there?”
“Dirty DVD’s. They gotta burn.”
“Aww no, that’d ruin the purity o’ the thing.”
They argued back and forth for seven minutes
till the guy with the DVD’s lost the fight
‘cause he didn’t have SECURITY stenciled
across his back.
Somebody added more books. More fluid.
The flames stretched like they were high fiving
Mr. SECURITY.
The circle just stood there.
Silently.
Proudly.
They’d defended the integrity o’ the thing.
Damn straight.
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TIME & Again
Did you hand TIME the keys to the car?
Did you hand TIME the keys?
You NEVER hand TIME the keys,
he’ll be gone for HOURS on some
JOY RIDE. TIME TIME TIME & again,
you piss it ALL away.
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