We're hanging, somehow watching from the top;
Upended snow globe; inverted zoetrope
Shows petals beaming, suspended 'til they drop
Away from body-stem to kaleidoscopes
Of fire-splurge from hoses made of dust
And burning blooms: they feed the eyes below
That shoot in wonder, tinily full of lust
Which surges with colour in this chlorophyllic show.
The flowers make love loud with fire and light:
The buds explode then burst a smould'ring paint
That rains its glowing warmth onto your skin
Then bloom, and burst and bloom and bloom again
The rockets screech and scream and cry within...
Tipped back, we fall against our wall of glass
Hear fire crackling, grey smoke drifting past.
