___________________________________________

To leap higher than Kadour Ziani,
not as high, however, to that

of a quickly rising fire-tornado in Brazil,
dimishing quickly into thin air.

Fire within this heart of mine,
my rib cage expanding outward, as if

long-in-the-tooth. My refractive index
is changing—though the "real me" is

already invisible—to that of air,
and my body is not absorbing nor reflecting

light any longer. What else should I
speak of that would seem fantastical

to the common man? This, as if one's diary
knows what one is writing about

on its pages, or as if labeling a hurricane
the name of a human being is not

a peculiar thing.