i.
no water in the line
there is no water in the line
there is no water in the line
for bodies on the land
there is no water in the line
there is no water in the line
there is no water in the line
just bodies on the land
there are bodies on the land
there are bodies on the land
come and drink the water
come and drink the water
come and drink the water
does it burn
does it burn
come and drink the water
come and drink the water
come and drink the water
does it burn
does it burn
ii.
I have things to burn this body already alight these words ashen
and weightless and offering themselves like dancers to darkened sky
this quickening clock this tightened yolk this ship that will not port
and will not port these borders and the walls that would enforce them
this frozen tongue these slow feet this stage this pen this quiet voice
I will make a fuel of them
Better than bitchumen better than petrol
Better than elephant tusk or drug lust
I filled myself with false fire once
only blinking before I was emptied again
I have put acres of rainforest up my own nose
Burned money on clothes I did not wear
Charred myself throat-to-belly with firewater that would not
extinguish a match and I have been thirsty ignorant naive but not
innocent complicit and complacent I have been
and seen time wasted
There are no renewable resources
Not water not shorelines not a hundred little boys in wet
red sweaters not tradition not treaty
not native tongue or trust or thirst
iii.
Everything can burn
I learn this
watching water ignite from kitchen faucet.
I learn this
watching a man once mountain reduced to carbon
Everything can burn
and all of us turn either to ash
or to dust
If fire is either lust or love
then I want to stop dousing myself in gasoline
as a cheap party trick
There are reasons to burn
and we have plenty
Let me make of my words a fire
a purpose
a front line
a service
a choir
an engine
the matches
and the urn