Not a blitz poem, but something inspired by a mis-read title to a news article online…
What a strange thing to be collecting,
And how involved do they get in the process?
No, that flame has to be HOTTER!
No, hotter than that.
Give me that…
I’m sure it’s more like the guy
wearing the ‘suicide vest’—
taped around his neck and shoulders.
After they go off,
sending him spinning
down the driveway
black marks and charring
all about his pudgy torso,
moaning and groaning
is about the extent of his direction.
Not very helpful there,
Have you considered
getting an emu instead?
(19 February 2017—posted February 20th)