I have gunpowder in my head
tiny, black fragments rub
against one another
[sparking]
images collide and collect
like rainwater
in the creases of my brain
[trickling]
mnemonic echoes hold steady,
steady trilling songs
trigger safety switches
[waiting]
for the chance to channel
stray incendiary pieces of
thought and prosody into
ready golden cylinders;
for loading, loosening, cocking:
for aim.
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