You
might
.
h
a
v
e
.
heard
.
t
h
a
t
.
I
.
burn
.
t
h
e
.
curve . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ I
burn
.
t
h
e
.
curve,
.
.
a
n
d
.
.
blur . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
I
burn
.
t
h
e
.
curve,
–
–
when
.
t
h
e
.
turn
.
i
s
.
unsure . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
I
burn
.
t
h
e
.
curve,
–
–
when
.
h
u
r
t
.
becomes
.
t
h
e
.
cure . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ when
.
h
u
r
t
.
becomes
.
t
h
e
.
cure . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
I
burn
.
t
h
e
.
curve . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
I
burn
.
t
h
e
.
curve . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
I
burn
.
t
h
e
.
curve . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
f
o
r
–
–
–
anything
observed,
–
–
might
truly
.
b
e
.
worse . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
o
r
–
–
–
deserve
.
m
o
r
e
.
worth
.
t
h
a
n
.
wants,
–
–
whispers,
.
.
o
r
.
.
words . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
a
n
d
–
–
–
there
.
a
r
e
.
times,
–
–
when
.
a
detour
–
–
better
serves,
.
.
t
h
a
n
.
.
a
yield
.
o
r
.
a
merge . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
s
o
–
–
–
before
.
y
o
u
.
surrender . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ surrender
.
t
o
.
the
urge . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
consider
.
w
h
a
t
.
you’ve
heard,
.
.
a
n
d
.
.
learn . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
f
o
r
.
.
.
I
burn
.
i
t
.
baby,
–
–
burn . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ I
burn
.
t
h
e
.
curve . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
a
n
d
–
–
–
blur.
Reflection: This was a forgotten personal struggle-themed poem I wrote back in August of 2019 where the affected party frequently lives on the edge of life – and slows down for no one. And we’re left to ponder where he or she might end up, and whether any moments of happiness might have been experienced in all of that restless, relentless pursuit. I’ve known several people who lived their lives that way. I played the wonderful song “The Only Thing” by Zola Blood in the background to create the “moodset” for the poem. If you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it. The poem was born from the lyric: “fast on the curve” (actually the words were “resting on a curve” but I had not realized that) – I changed that tiny phrase to “burning the curve,” and the rest of the poem wrote itself from that.