Fire. A meditation upon the fire eaters at Kandy in Sri Lanka by David Cooke. Enjoy your day Yareah friends. Art is everywhere and up to you!
Like neophytes awaiting the scheduled
mysteries we bring much travelled voices,
our babble of sterling, dollars, yens –
and if from the start we’re almost certain
that the magic is merely sleights,
the ancient play of hoaxers,
still we can’t help being drawn
as children are to flames. The rite begins.
The drums are a slow narcosis,
as one adept steps forth
to groom his lucent skin, lingeringly,
in a self-obsessed toilette. Others ingest
forbidden fruit, exhale their fiery word,
or step unscathed through a burning stream
which, when the show is over,
a shadow douses with his bucket,
releasing clouds of damp smoke
and a pungent, cynical hiss.