INCANDESCENCE
Ashok Niyogi
The sun has just passed away.
It was glorious in its day.
But now its corpse is a uniform yellow
That falls on my pillow
And warms my scalp.
The sun is dead.
I have had the vital signs checked,
Now there is only reflected light.
Soon there will be a spark of incandescence
As we light its funeral pyre.
There will be total and absolute brilliance
And then progressively the light will fade.
Trees will shudder and mountains will be moonscapes.
Huge rocks will float away into outer space.
The human race sniveling in subterranean tunnels
Will be a disgrace.
We light up stoves and turn on the gas
With cigarette lighters we light up cigarettes.
But now we will have to light up the sun.
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