The More Complete Stranger – The Fire at Wenas

I watched the fire at Wenas this morning.
It was Plath’s mirror. It was honest brutality.
And I didn’t bring binoculars
to watch the helicopters
but I felt selfish enough.
And I knew I was an asshole
because I somehow made it about me
even though I could see the houses in the path.
I still learned
(my house far removed from real humility)
there is no new without destruction of the old.
There is no bad
poetry
without didacticism.
There is no self-deprecation
without self-awareness.
There is no bold statement
without generalization.
There is no influence
without appropriation.
There is no cuss (or violence)
without inarticulation.
There is no wit
without observation.
There is no balance
without opposition.
And without all these
could love still hold center?
Or some fucking center still hold?
I learned nothing.
Because a revolution here
is not the same
as a revolution in space.