Poetry: “Holiday Advisory” by Jude Marr

A Christmas candle is still a candle if you light it any other day.

When the power goes out, a candle gives off enough light to let a person feel they still exist.

A candle is always dangerous. Strike a match. The smallest spark is potential conflagration.

A cigarette can be Christmas if you spray it with glitter.

Smoking a cigarette for company, I make a matchstick forest, burying unsulfured ends in sand.

I light my last cigarette with a resurrected match. What day is today?

I am not spent yet. There is enough friction left in me to start a small fire.

I am not an arsonist, only a seeker after light.

If I spray glitter on my skin, does that make me complicit?

When I sleep head-to-toe with my charred remains, the smell of sulfur surrounds us and keeps us safe.

My last candle has melted into a puddle.

In the theater of my room, shadows are more real than mysterious: I can’t decide whether I am actor or audience.

I have three matches left.

I stay in my sandbox because sand puts out fire. Sand also holds back the flood.

The smell of sulfur is all that remains.

 

 

***

Jude Marr is the author of Breakfast for the Birds (Finishing Line, 2017). Other recent credits include Mud City, Black Napkin, and Split This Rock. Jude is a PhD student at the University of Louisiana at Lafayette, and also poetry editor for r.kv.r.y. For more on Jude’s work, or to buy a signed copy of her book, go to judemarr.com. 

What’s HFR up to? Read our current issuesubmit, or write for Heavy Feather.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s