Fire
Fire is dearer to us than love or food,
hot, hurrying, yet it bums if you touch
it.
What we ought to do
is not to add our love together, or our goodwill, or any of
that,
for we’re sure to bring in a lot of lies,
but our fire, our elemental fire
so that it rushes up in a huge blaze like a phallus into hollow
space
and fecundates the zenith and the nadir
and sends off millions of sparks of new atoms
and singes us, and bums the house down.