self portrait as the Hindenburg in my blackyard

there are dollar store balloons in me
a cove of helium
& a finger pressing into 
my neck to find that vein 
as if it were an escape rope 
out the back window in the yard
the grass is crackling & dry
starting to give in to 
a rolling dry tomato July

my brother is still trying
to tie the blimp down.
he's the kind of person 
who thinks water stops fire
who thinks that there
is never a point where 
destruction is irrevocable.

this event isn't to scale--
the blimp is smaller this time
& so are the men inside--
their screams cartoonish
squeaks, as if this was
the burning of a cluster of mice.

fire closely resembles 
hydrangeas-- flowers sometimes
combust when looked at harshly
for too long.

there is a ray gun floating
in my body & maybe it 
pulled its own trigger 
& started the fire. i also
keep a selection of lighters,
it could of been those too.

i am fairly convinced 
i started the fire, whether
i remember doing so or not
whether this is 1937 or not.

a garden hose pulled loose 
from underneath a rock,
the running of insects away
from the fire's heat. i wonder
sometimes if the point of
loving someone else is so 
that you both feel needed--

that's the reason disasters
happen maybe-- so that we
can remember that other people
are necessary in great fires.

the beast crouches--
a school of rib cages--
silver skin petaling off me.
yes me-- opening my mouth
so the world can watch
my teeth turn red hot
& my tongue as just fire.

there's someone in my house
with a video camera-- 
a home movie of this-- 
look at her/him, we'll
need to remember this

i remember dad tossing
a football which is strange 
because it's one of those things
that show your parents had 
a life so long before you.

he's tossing me & i'm
high above buildings & this
is a memory of before 
i caught fire. 

the only thing i know for sure
anymore is that 
it was my fault
for swallowing so much flammable

for not sleeping better,
for not trying to fill myself
with something other than air.

i can't remember the last
time i loved someone who
made me feel like i was enough.

maybe this is why we have
videos of the blimp & all
its fire-- it's necessary to watch--
a crowd of people
crowded around a window,
some shaking their heads 
some crossing their arms
some holding iPhones
some cover their mouths.