Newflame Poem by Matt Ransom

From forgotten ashes
the newflame burns through the night
to drive us from our bed
we escape to different rooms and shout our blame
as it burns
we flee the house to be free
it chases me from my work
and I am forced into exile
among the homeless
looking for free showers and a place to sleep
as the street kids paw my things
a train slows and I see the faces of students
they help me onto the train
their handler glowers at my shaman apparel
watching me if I try to give them things
the handler realizes that a teachable moment has arrived
to innoculate her charges against burning men and shamans
I leave her with my amulets as they continue to India
I must go back to the streets
and writhe in the embers