I was given a cigar sometime ago and I’ve been meaning to light it
Lacking a cutter I keep saying I’m going to buy one
An old cowboy zippo is also close by recently bought sitting on the same shelf
Lacking the fuel it takes for it to work days are going
I’m frequently lazy in regards to the ignition of sparks
All these items are wrapped in papers and plastic bags books too
Smothered in flammables but the only thing I light are after-work joints
Outside in the evening we even sit on wood out there and it could burn
But the fire is guided by only what we want to burn
Never have thrown it
The ground is wooden and cold and without the wind from outside
Or the plug-in fan your body is surrounded by flammables
Anxiety is the only thing ignited and you’re all things burning
It’s an inside feeling and you’re fuelless
Lungs and chest don’t need cutting
A rusty flame of unknown soldier tombs
But medicine holds the steel back and all is only sparks
When the heart is pumping as the thumb keeps the wheel of flint back hard
I am frequently lazy in regards to the ignition of sparks
Put your hand on my chest and feel that constant friction
That heart and lungs are looking to ignite
The flame is guided by only what we want to burn
There are things I’m afraid of more than warmth.

About the Author:

Jacob Fortino is a 24-year-old poet, author, and painter from Plainfield, IL. He received a BA in Creative Writing with a Minor in European Studies at Illinois State University and he plans on pursuing an MA. His work has been published in Euphemism, TheHemlock Journal and Pink Apple Press. He currently lives in Chicago, IL.