a human cannonball
packed tightly
in a nest of
emotional tinder
down the barrel as
the barker lights
the punt and the
nervous crowd cheers
the fuse is
comically long to
build the anticipation
as he contemplates
the logistics of
a lifelong obsession
with head-on collisions
to the structural
integrity of
his hollow boned
collection of lost
birdsong soliloquies

the posters ripple
in the wind
a showcase of past
failings on display
as he hunkers low
hoping this is the time
he breaks free of
the human limitations
leaving one last smear
as a testament to
his floudering existence
before slipsliding
between planar distortions
into the breakroom
where god drinks burnt
coffee between shifts
ignoring desperate pleas

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