Bush Fire Poem by Matthew Martin

BUSH FIRE

Acres of corn
Stand tall
And uniform
Bend and sway
As the wind plays
With a flute
In a gathering storm

As the blood petals bloom
In the horizon's fold
Farmers bystanders
Casual philanderers
Stop, sniff the air
Put their plans on hold
I sit out on the porch
Playing Ma`s piano
C'mon the rising wind
Bring on the inferno

The city clock
Roars on its head
The power infects
The college prefects
The nurse disinfects
The time plan installed
Congeals to lead

The routines
The replacement shifts
The empty squeaking wheels
The faulty flaking lifts

Muffled appeals
In the meeting room
Constricted coughs
As the pencil thin
Paradigms
Are held aloft
Round applause
Disapprobation
At the tension
Behind the bosses
Last quotation

There are codes
And guidance notes
Clear instructions
So that every movement
Smoothly flows
Into the pre-glow
Of the next one
Like a seamless
Product
Like a bush fire