Here's a new poem about someone who starts fires - it isn't based on a single real person but on bits of things I've come across over the years. No pictures of fires here but the "B of the bang" sculpture in Manchester fits nicely (the sculpture was eventually dismantled because it was dangerous)
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| "B of the Bang" photographed at Manchester Sportcity |
burned it all away
matches, bonfires
cars, houses
it didn’t matter
took away the pain
hurt drifting upwards
wind blown on the smoke
He’d stagger home
Alcohol dimmed senses
cosy armchair comfort
music and books
old gold framed photos
black and white pasts
glimmering ....
He settled briefly
contented calm
and the fireplace sparked
his inferno reignited
the wide eyes stare
pale skin reflects orange
and all that’s left
charcoal blackened memories
And the familiar cell
who’s iron bars don’t burn
and where, for now
he no longer cares
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