Bullet Duet (poem)

The Tropical Flowering Zone



I fell
On a handfull of thirsty bullet dormant seeds

And ethers blew me
To root in empty lots with drafty winds and fallen drupes

But what to conceal and reveal
To sprout with endeavour and remain adhered

Anchored in clay
These seeds which sprout or delay

In deserts of madness and rage
They nourish you soldier, and slave

Oh little seeds but don’t leave performing
Bullet duets, in the midst of travelogue, perhaps in vain

©Maria Firpi

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