“Back out of the furnace…”

3/7/21

Back out of the furnace
and cool in my arms
as steam saturates the air,
suffocates the stairs,
and smokes your warm-stare
which I forgot lay there,
dead in the snow —
way in the past,
like invisible gas
used to kill millions
with a match
I stole from a fireplace
to light the car aflame
and drive down the lane
which I watch the children play —
used to be okay
until their eyes turned gray
from the ashes I play
in the passages to escape
a gunman from above
whose tattoos retains
sweet notions of numbers
recounted from the past
when God had her chance
to back up their claim
that the World was okay.