based on a true story*
The arsonist invited me
into the house of love.
The floorboards creaked,
and in the rafters above
I saw the black soot stains
and where a spider had wove
its web, now dangling
in a cool breeze.
The door was still open—perhaps I should leave.
Would you like a cup of tea?
He smiled at me.
Of course, I accepted his hospitality--
then saw the light in his eye,
like a burning match glowing.
I’m sorry, I said, I must be going.
The warmth of your affection
is really quite touching. But now I feel the heat rising
and a slow burning.
Our friendly visit is turning
into a fire crackling.
I think my presence here is
some kind of kindling.
Thank you for the tea-- I’ll be
heading back to town.
If I stay here any longer, I’m afraid
we’ll burn the house down.
An old PF favorite.