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)