Great Fires of the Northern Plains

Great fires of the northern plains visit me once again
In bed
This time I'm alone
I always am
Still the fire roars into view
demanding my acknowledgment 
you can’t meet its gaze
I never can

Its nauseating flames lap up the corners of my blankets and tumble across the walls of
my room and argue down the curtains and
bang themselves confusedly against my window and
Still I stare at my feet
Still I lie in bed

Dreary-eyed I roll languidly off the eastern frontier of the springed continent
The fire now swallowing the ceiling
I pull socks up to my knees
I push on a hat
to stay warm 

As i close the door
I look back 
And 
see the fire
Fade
I turn
heading west
Door slam shut
Feet stomp walk

I am afraid of these days
dim and wet
Cold like the bottom of a dead volcano
magnificent and hollow
intricate veins of forgotten life along unfamiliar stone
Chills bones

I am afraid of these days
Forgetting everything I uninterestedly heard
Moving in every direction at once
like a shifting earth 
a thousand leagues 
under
Rolling ocean

I am afraid of these days
Meeting everyone 
Having no one
Watching in envy as drunken bodies 
slam love into each other
hating them because
I'm too afraid 
tying the twine of my soul
To the wings of a motorcar in monaco

I enjoy bed the most
boxing with whisky 
love losing
Wrapping in fortresses of down and wool
anxious peace falsely warm and full

The great fires of the northern plains
 visit
 me
 once again