#5

Words have failed,
drifted slowly down to
the unforgiving ground,
strewn like goose feathers during
hunting season. Nothing
is simple.

Everything is as it seems.

Meanwhile
time surges forward, devouring
moment after moment with
measured swallows. The
clicking of its impossible throat
is echoed in clocks and footsteps.
My heart,

has forgotten how to dodge bullets.
Frantic, transcending its biology,
it surges forward
as I stand still
and swallows the
bullet whole.

Words succeed.

Everything
Is simple.

Nothing is as it seems.

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