Sunday 30 June 2013

If I were the Sun...



If I were the Sun...
I'd be a confused recluse
living in open solitude
93 million miles away from everyone.
 
If I were the Sun...
I'd combust all poetries but one, mine
and create a shrine to the divine
temperature, Fahrenheit 451.
 
If I were the Sun...
I'd shrink to the size of a coin and
lie on the pavement, shimmering and
golden, scolding swindled fingers.
 
If I were the Sun...
I'd be a 24-7 voyeur, simmering on the brink.
Pent-up with white-hot rage and unspent
spermatozoa.
 
If I were the Sun...
I'd be a flamboyant superstar. A bleached
smile, radiating mythical status, addicted
to crack cocaine.

If I were the Sun...
 
As it is, I lurk in libraries, browsing
dictionaries & thesauruses, looking up
alternative words for 'light' & 'heat'.