there once was a boy who carried with him everywhere he went
a 25 pound torch in his right hand
because his heart was very heavy and he yearned for balance.

he set it down only to sleep.

both sides of his body felt very warm
though one was quite cold.

he would roam from city to city being careful with his flame
“please watch out, not to burn things down” the snowcaps,
wooden village locals and trees would ask nicely the same.

he traveled the states.

during the summer he often felt too hot swelter with the suns rays beating on him
in addition to
his fiery addition and would seek the coldest climates desolate places
caves and north poles and such locations
which made healing difficult, with no doctors around.



during the winter, fooled he would find fake friends the homeless and hungry
pretending about smiles showing teeth and trust,
wanting to be close to him so as not to fall at the hands of jack frost or his nasty
bite.
too surrounded nearly suffocated by the needy & newspaper wearing,
there were no doctors around. if they called, he could not hear their answer as
newspaper in the wind makes a great deal of sound.



the spring and fall seemed most opportune as the people were plenty, though april’s showers kept him inside
and falling leaves proved dangerous all things falling all the time
slippery risky
he could not lose or sacrifice his balance
he had no substitute for his torch he wanted balance.

heading east because he’d accidentally scorched the west
there was nothing left
passing through to the coast to put out his flame, he met a girl named virginia
who loved animals in pairs, los angeles, the golden gate & the olympics

she wore a necklace the size of
an intersection. flying thru the zoo tunnels careful not to run him too fast and put out his flame,
she showed him the flamingos.


wearing a bleach pink shirt and replicating their ways
standing on one foot he decided that indeed it was the ground beneath him
that was not sturdy
and that if mother earth was not still, then perhaps his heart should seek a new
foundation.

02/05/2009

Author's Note: you carve out the forest and i'll flex my telescope on your mouth

Posted on 02/06/2009
Copyright © 2024 Steven Kenworthy