Burning

(Leo, Summer Ups the Heat)

I could feel the heat
When you hunted me down;
Hors d'oeuvre trays almost overturned
In my haste to turn around.
Now I'm burning--
Burning burning up,
Consumed by the night.
The floor is smoke--or is it fog?
Not a flame in sight.

I'll try to play it cool--
You know, "continental drift."
Can anyone else see you stalking your prey?
Now it's "when," not "if."
I wish I could live in this painting,
All bullfrogs and cool blue pond.
My eyes look to the walls, the door;
I can feel you just beyond,
And now I'm burning--
Burning burning up,
Not a flame in sight.
Tiger hunts the lonely prey,
Down without a fight.

You're taking advantage
Of the flesh and the bone.
I want to be a statue,
Cold as stone--
Lit from above, lit from all sides;
My posture commissioned
From a greater guide.
But now I'm burning--
Burning burning up,
Tiger in the night.
Everything is smoking now,
Without a flame in sight.

Wolves in business suits,
Lambs in gabardine;
Claw marks on the crudités,
Scarlet trails on the crepe de chine.
I wish I could live in a painting
Where everything stays cool blue.
I wish my heart weren't beating so fast,
Because then I could look at you.
But now I'm burning--
Burning burning up,
Not a flame in sight.
My veneer is tearing like a skin--
I'm down without a fight.


© Alan Reade, 2001