Dissecting a Singular Moment in a World of Vanity


i have looked back through the vastness of a mirror
and seen the reflection fragment into an augmented view:
no matter how i saw it, relaxed or upright in a stern salute
it happened. i, willingly, unwillingly, or shat from the depth
of fate
volunteered in actions unbeknownst to me. you can never
see a bullet coming until it has merged with you in a passionate kiss.

the way that the light splits
at one million thousand miles per second
shatters against the running still until sight is created and, in the
quaking shock, sound is harnessed to the back of the view.
i have seen it all coming
and have denounced the likeliness of free will.
some call this blasphemous
others take it that i, like any child of industrialism, time
and a sick disposition for "whatever came before all this"
flipped through too many pages too fast and lost the meaning
somewhere in the 20th chapter.
after all, if you're not in a discussion group
dissecting the words the way a knife slices through the thick
layered skin of a pig
do the words really matter anyway?