You crawl out to the fire escape
Just as the house catches on fire
Cloaked in rain, could you still smell
That ancient nausea? Would you miss
Those secrets, spilled like spaghetti   
Those murmurs, measured like mousetraps
Those lies, undried like laundry
Or those letters, huddling like ants,
But dying the deaths of elephants?
Are you eavesdropping with your lifeless,
Yet deathless pupils of an owl, how
Gasping windows
Stubborn doors
Falling stairs
Cascade
Into
A wide-eyed eulogy
A simony of screams
Orchestrating the last metaphors of souls
That burn and would be buried within?
Why don’t you light up a cigar
Let the smoke melt all the
Faces, f-words, and fantasies
Like throwing the puns of orphans
Onto a street full of strangers
Like stealing the sonnet of that girl
From the pocket of her lover?
Please wait till
The sulfuric bullets of heaven
Saturate those feathery rumors
Weighted with whispers
Coming alive, once more
And plunging, one after another
Into broken syllables
Oh! Doesn’t all this remind you
Of your arsonist grandfather
Who, in the name of Prometheus,
Crawled out to the fire escape
Just as his house caught on fire?