Spark

I am the medium, and you the spark;

I have yet to feel the heat

from these flames.

Pour a little gasoline on the pit,

make it sour so it will spit;

a little turpentine and lawnmower oil

should do the trick.

I want to see the glitter, the lightning

show I've been waiting for;

so I'll just gather material

to soak in this menagerie,

the filthy games we play. I am not a god,

nor do I follow religion,

but this bonfire is growing

and I'm in the middle of it.

Set me on fire and spread the ashes.

I only wished to make you feel

like this was worth the fuss,

yet you stand here with your matches

and I'm left waiting to combust.