- Twelve Ways to Look at a Pyromaniac
I.
there is a man in a room who stays in my head when I am awakeand disappears when I sleep and when he says "psssst" I have to seta fire.
II.
the candle flickers as we wait for father; I watch my mother placea strand of hair into the flame sending a curl of smoke spiralingtoward the ceiling.
III.
lighter in hand,a freshly painted door frame,seeing if I can burn away hellos and goodbyes.
IV.
chucking a lit rag into the hay fields.
V.
I feel the warmth of the flames gathering together like family.
VI.
the smell of burnt garbage.a broom against the wall.my tired arms.
VII.
mother says fire hurts. psssst. [End Page 31]
VIII.
the smothered fire means my swollen hands my scorched fingers andgoing to bed early without dinner.
IX.
a pile of ash,a missing tool shed.
X.
advice I can't ignore,every night I swallow smoke whole.
XI.
staring at the color of the flames; it burns where it burns andscatters somewhere beyond my ears.
XII.
he says teach and I hear torch. she says rest and I hear roast. you sayblaze and there is only laughter. [End Page 32]
Anhvu Buchanan's poems have appeared or are forthcoming in 580 Split, The Cream City Review, La Fovea, Parthenon West Review, The Sand Canyon Review, and word for/word. He recently completed a manuscript on psychological disorders entitled The Disorder Index and received his MFA from San Francisco State University. He currently lives in San Francisco, teaches in Oakland, and co-curates The Living Room Reading Series.