The Ashes Must Be

when thoughts are awkward and vocabulary must be big you young poet begin to smell the fire burning at your own stake because the papers you stuff into your desk beg to be read by the townspeople that like to burn things preferably flesh for they do not understand the need to say something anything that could be the least bit true what you both do not realize: no poet stands in protest we do not need rope to keep us in the flames the ashes must be for one to become the most beautiful bird the only thing you know this moment is the song from the emerged you hear it stronger than most it matches your roughest drafts enough you want to live in the same trees and fly around the public’s head not always shooed because birds have their place until their song cannot be ignored then there will be another burning it is fine people always remember the things they burn whether it is the tree that fell on their house Rubber Soul just because John called the denied golden calf or an entire collection of disco because it sucks people remember the burning and so will you when you have feathers for protection you will practice the most haunting of songs and smell the next fire yet this time you will know to become the most beautiful bird the ashes must be Maria E. Kuntz June 6, 2007