You, who never tire of chaos, must comprehend this fire,
and the manner in which it deconstructs
the crackling logs, books we’ve read,
ablaze in orange and splintering blue.
Victims of our rage—it appears—they turn to white ash
that drifts in our nostrils, presses our tongues
in gestures of mute farewell. You, who never cared
for poetry or philosophy, part willingly with yours,
while I confess some doubt, hesitating
over tomes you’ve heard me mention with sighs.
We are wholly different, it seems, not in our desire
to purge, but in our methods of departing
from what remains of ordinary lives,
leaving behind what has touched us in time.
About Kevin J.B. O’Connor
Kevin J.B. O’Connor is currently pursuing his Ph.D. in English at University of Kentucky and received his MFA from Old Dominion University. He has published poetry in Luna Luna, Slant, Glassworks, Flare: The Flagler Review, Bayou, Eunoia, Yemassee, Hawaii Pacific Review, Poetry City, USA, Broke Bohemian, Postcard Poems and Prose, The Bakery, Bluestem, Mayday Magazine, Midway Journal, Barely South Review, and Visions International, among other journals. He lives in Lexington, KY.
