Tripping Into Christ
Think about the worddayonfire, for a second.

I see myself waking up to find every last *thing* observable to the eye holding an undevouring flame. The flames are hot enough, but they don't necessarily *burn,* they don't consume. There's no smoke. I look down and see my hands, arms, and body engulfed in this fire that is. . . uncomfortable, but nonconsuming. Even the dog is ablaze, but he's been up for an hour or so. He's almost used to it, just looks a little nervous. I get out of bed and put on my burning clothes and I go downstairs, not being afraid to set my hand down on the lit-up railing. I slip into burning shoes, twist the flickering knob and open the door, to see everything under the sun on fire. The world has stopped, for all intents and purposes. People aren't going to their jobs. No one's driving any cars. Everyone, engulfed in flames, wandering throughout the streets. And the day goes on. Everyone gets used to the heat, though they still look a little shook up no one's worried about being burned to death. The sky is cloudless, the trees are hard to look at, way too bright. Every last thing observable to the eye burns on and on for a solid day. The world is suspended, at the very edge before apocalypse for twenty four hours. At sunset, you're surrounded by orange. By midnight, you're yawning beneath a red sky. Just like God said after the flood, it's the fire this time.

Walking the fine line between life and loss.

dayonfire, aka Michael K. Gause, writes poetry and an ongoing narrative he calls *The Ramble Noose.* He's just published a chapbook by Little Poem Press, and you can order it right here. It's called *I want to look like Henry Bataille*

I've been reading Gause's work for awhile, now. He seems to have been stingy with his poetry, as of late, but here is one example of what I think you'll find in this new chapbook of his. At the very least, I think it jibes with whatever went on above.

From what I've read of *The Ramble Noose,* and the assorted poems to be found here and there, he's able to maintain a consistent voice and use it to present subject matter ranging from the commonplace to the convoluted along with stark imagery and endearing observations.

At the very least, you should give his journal the once over and leave him some nice mail.