When fixed at its course
this ironhead missive
might slant
a dugout through one-reader-skull
bullets like ringed thought
poem shot of dancing ideation
of burrowing and exploding
of mindbreak blood blowing
bullets of barber pole alliteration
like chance through fingers
hands over faces
stand a stonethrow away
from this unsanctioned retelling when reading
the hot write is rising near it
danger, dear poets, is followed here
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