Frozen in Drowning Fire
And other reflections
I pour myself into a paper cup and
~)choke(~
on my viscous hair as it
w
r
a
p
s
its grasping entrails around my throat
I gaze
UP
into the starlight of hell beneath my feet
the bowels of the earth shining in the gloom
^above^
my head
the wonders of living are innumerable
count them, count them, count them until the end
the very
>>>>>>> end
I observe this from my grave buried deep in the furnace
the fiery ventricles of my frozen heart
pound, pound, pounding
like a halting train
and I croak my last word at the moment of my birth
......................................................................................................................
Sometimes the surreal is all you can write, in a world where surreality parades as the norm. What an absurd, artificially unintelligent species we can be.
And yet, here we are, still creating, still hoping, still yearning for that peek around, through and behind the looking glass to provide us with the answer.
It might not be the answer we want, but if we’re lucky, it will be the answer we need.
About the Creator
Zivah Avraham
I write poetry, prose, fiction and fact.
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Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insight
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
Comments (1)
Incredible piece of work. The imagery reaches out and grabs you. I also appreciate your experimentation with form.