Monsters of Men

cadmium dawning

Icarus with his coveted heart

and summer molten radiance

pooling from the holes in his

facsimile collarbones. Burgeoned

by chains that bloom cadences along

his broken knuckles. The touch

of gold under his teeth, ever shining

in the light of dawn. Strap on

your wings of celestial seraphic

and fly to the sky that weeps

in shades of lemon honey. Push

past the temerarious cumulus

that splatter the day with bits of

murky silver. Taste the light

on your tongue as if it were

the sap of Helios' forsaken blood.

But Icarus, do not venture too far.

For the ambrosia daylight will

consume you in a synodic expansion

of supernova explosion. Icarus, oh

Icarus. The wax is melting

from your wings and burning

amaryllises onto your back.

Your bereft soul is

weighing you down because

you're still reaching for

the weeping sun. The feathers

are burning into precipitation

and the sky rains with the faux

sweet smell of ash. Please dear Icarus,

you're spiralling out of control and burning

into a heap of tender flames

that will scorch the earth in an

abysmal, infinite pain. The angel/boy/god

of fire is falling, falling, fal-