Molten

Day Seven for Imaginary Life Four, Poet:

Choking

Sudden, like a lightning bolt-
but a bolt that lingers
plasma bright and eerie
with a faint buzzing

The heat is beyond compare
a fourth state of matter
when God touches things
and forgets to remove His Hand

I lie under a steel plate
heated by the plasma of the frozen bolt
the plate is iron and glowing molten red
as nipple protrudes from the center

The molten nipple is above my head
and it stretches out to my forehead
It is no longer a nipple - now a polyp
A cancer I have to cross my eyes to see.

and there it all freezes once more
The molten iron polyp
the shimmering, fuzzy bolt
but I am left my own time

A Sunday afternoon's time
under that hot motlen ball
waiting for the ball to drop
and burn my face -my taste -my breath

But no such relief
I lay and wait and squirm and count
to numbers back and forth
and see God in the orange smoothness of the bulb

Haiku of the Day:

The great unceasing
Reality frays the edge
and I unravel 

Today's Drawing

Nefarious - flagrantly wicked or impious : evil