sunrise over the golf course
the sun barely topping the horizon
he is walking down the road towards the golf course
it is just past sunrise
the road is deserted
he is carrying a can of gasoline
a car, its windows steamed
sits on the side of the road
he has been sitting in the car
waiting for the sun to rise
when he arrives at the golf course
he climbs over the fence
first setting the can of gasoline of the other side
and then with a quick hop and a hand on the rail
he is over
the can of gas splashes a bit as he heads for the seventh green
once there
he sits over the hole like a giant bird
waiting for the early worm
he takes the can of gasoline
and pours it over his head
the fumes reaching his nose first
and then the gasoline. a shower of it
cold and burning his skin
he takes a lighter out of his pocket
looks into the sun
and sets himself on fire
there is no sound
because there is no one to hear it
he screams for ten seconds and then stops
it no longer hurts
he sees the sun through red/orange flames
and then his vision melts
the morning shrugs
the wind picks up the stench of burning flesh
and blows it towards the road
where no cars are passing by
blows it so that it swirls around the trunks of the trees
that line the golf course
and into the leaves
where no birds sing
and into that blue horizon
with the sun shining hard and hot
and his death scream echoes across the neatly trimmed lawns
falling upon no one's ears
except the morning's
Copyright © michael dennis / Ordinary Press 1982
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