he opened a box of Strike Anywhere
Matches
they were all burned
their heads blackened
a few millimeters of their
squared shafts scorched
the inside of the cardboard box was like toast
the inside of the cardboard box was like toast
brittle
it didnt xhale when he
opened it
inspecting the keen edges of
the cellophane that wrapped it they were
dull oxidized
weary from the inside
weary from the inside
weary from the inside
very weary . . . inside
he put the box down
the unlit cigar
he heard a . . . crinkling
his shadow stood up from
where he sat
. . . and left
for the first time in his life he
was afraid that if he were struck hed have no phosphorus to explode
1805, Twosday,
1 7. 14
