“I have a feeling it’s gonna burn,”
He said of his old house there at the end of the drive.
“Lots of things burn out here, you know?”
He lapsed to a faraway smile.
He never heard another word I said.
The promise of phoenix rising meant nothing to him.
He had a bootstrap theology
And pulled himself up.
He didn’t bother praying for disaster
When he had the power to create his own.
-jenn long
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