A major poet lies here: the ashes of a fire

The two of us
beside the fire
we three
understand

such a great talker
this fire
spitting and hissing
like a skidroad whore

you and i
sitting by the fire
desire burning lower
and the ashes
hiss in displeasure
as we throw on the water
to kill them dead
and joy-in-waning
fellowship
sends us to bed


mcmlxx