Gunpowder

Julia Drauden

 

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.

Euphemism Campus Box 5555 Illinois State University Normal, IL 61790