DUCK DUCK GOOSE
Feng Sun Chen
I purchase a book on violence. The guns in the glossy pages line up
It is actually a book about the body.
I hear the cracking of the blue shell of dawn
Nothing comes out of the paper. I sit and take shots and wait
This is actually a book about alchemy.
I want to be alone long enough just enough
This is its bookmark. We are one third asleep
Inner nudity turns into static.
Each targeting our one ever-bleeding legend
Something gold falls out of the hatched body.
I wrote this poem after I felt like killing someone for the first time. (I don't anymore. Things are cool). Is that too inappropriate? It became about something else altogether, but the impulse got the machine going.