Bottle of Ashes

A bottle of ashes to bring
daffodils from our bellies.
Blankets stuffed in the cracks
of the windows, beach towels
draping the radiator. Like this
we slept off the winter.
Gather up the crumbs
the ring pulls and corks
the arthritic aluminium
of all these empty cans
throw in the Christmas lights
all the skins of balloons
throw in the dead mice
throw in this sky
the vapour trails
the lisping moon
and boil and boil
until the flowers smell
the steam, and birds
and buds and grain
batten down the hatches
of the mother brain.
Then drink it all
until the insides burn
and puke and shit
across the dozing world.

That mess will bring
the lords and ladies
out of the grate
burning into spring.