Charred

(this poem was originally published in The Word by YSJ in 2009.)

When I reach into my pockets

space expands

to infinity.

It drives me fanatic

and I become a lunatic

stretching my fingers

too deep.

I dig for your nebula,

star corrosion,

symbol

of the melted hand.

Following the nova,

sinking Betlehem.

Because

though I paint you a saviour

it is not the truth.

But I like the lie.

Reaching further,

fingering my soul.

Sliding through the wormhole,

I become fanatic,

a complete lunatic,

overwhelmed like a

fascist close to the crown,

like a dirty bastard,

(with an empty heart)

and it is a madness

that it is fantastic.