Thursday, September 9, 2010

Need a Plan B for Halloween

Gallivanting off to Scotland does not seem to be in the cards this year. I can do it, my passport glares at me daily demanding use.

Something in my gut tells me to stay stateside. Part of it is a desire to save cash but moreover, I have enough going on as it is.

Maybe I'll make some progress with editors and agents this month. Who knows what will happen.

BUT . . .

I will enjoy Halloween in all its outrageous glory. Where that will be remains to be seen. I could go back to New Orleans for another Endless Night Ball. There are other haunts to explore. Have top hat, will travel. Just point me at the dark, murky corner where the vamps and succubi churn their cauldrons.

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Flame and Bone

When I was made from fire
Poured into the tender vessel of caution
That keeps my smoke from rising
Quickly did I discover that apart from crisp drizzles or falling snow
The world chilled my touched
Walking the narrow cornered gap between girders and cut stone
One learns to tuck his shoulders in or risk
Jostling a neighbor passing by rapt with want
For a clear path without the distraction
Of another man's boiling eyes
The tip of a finger
That oldest of all weapons
Grown deadlier and pristine in its invention
Gathers a mote of a cinder on its bare flesh
And turns pondering how best to scratch the impious itch
Prying open the tender seam
Where the oil of thought dews
Offering a new wick to ignite
Squirming alive as a salamander of mischief
That yearns for a taste of air it is so ready to devour
The steam of breath betrays me
Before the glint of orange spreads
In popping bright waves
Eroding the fibers feeding it
Leaving naught but ash
As my shell of quietude falls away