The
Devil’s breath
David Brown / George Smith
Smoke in the hills - Broken
signals
Everything tender had turned to tinder
their voices dry each word a splinter
rubbing together like two dry sticks
making the sign of the crucifix
But faith wouldn’t let them part
the wooden stake and Joan of Arc
sensing tension and unease
the kids ran wild with coyotes
When you feel the heat on your neck
it don’t always mean the sun is shining
could be the Devil’s breath
when you feel the heat on your neck
They say it flew from a barbeque
the single spark that started the fuse
the one small sperm in all that semen
giving life to that dancing demon
and like Nero when Rome was blazing
their denial just as brazen
the fire department sent aeroplanes
like holy crosses over the flames
It took the house and everything in it
it took the street but it wasn’t finished
it took the neighbourhood, took the town
it even burnt the church to the ground |
