JOHNMICHAEL SIMON POETRY

I am a soap bubble.  Wave froth.  Impermeable.

I am hardness.  Black light.  A countdown

of flashing digits, blinking off.

 

I am a candle.  Extinguished.  I cling

under rocks.  In crevices.

 

I am an anvil.  An iron mountain.  Lightning

discloses the scar across my face.

 

I am a prophecy.  Tomorrow’s shadow.  Smug.

Time stretched to its thinnest membrane.  Nothing

about me returns.

 

I’m metamorphosing.  Light into speed into red.

Don’t wait for me.