Words are true and honest.
Meaning what they mean
and maybe a few other things
and no more
until they bend beneath
the heal of a heavy-footed bastard
and arsonist.

He will burn us both and crack
the boards in the hallway
that separates us. He is
a fool and a bastard and
I’ll pay any man a fine sum
if they find him dead.

He sows his seeds incurably
and perfectly and smiles and
stands so far back as to
watch his work but
only once or twice has he
been caught in it, and
it burned us all. His scars
will hopefully
never heal.