House Fire

I want to burn your house down,

not because I like flames,

or want you dead,

but as a futile gesture

of my granite rage.

I want to set your house on fire,

or maybe break in

when you’re on holiday for two weeks,

and leave the taps running,

and the central heating on

with the thermostat on full,

to see how you react

to having everything you value

taken away from you.

I want to set fire to your house,

to seal every door and window frame,

and fill the house with gas.

And stand in the hall,

and stare at the light switch,

remembering, remembering, remembering.