I AM A BULLET

 

no missile wings as straight

or with such fierce velocity,

humming in tune with siblings

from our chambered hive --

steel bees, swarming blued space

until we meet what dares dispute

our flight and bounce, transformed --

 

tumbling through organs

at compressive speed

shredding veins;  unseen

unless we carve an exit wound.  

But don’t blame me -- 

unchained resentment, black-clad,

is my baptistry.



Versions first published in Rat's Ass Review (Summer 2020) and The Federal Poet, Vol. LXXV No. 2 (Fall 2019)