The gunpowder went biting its elbows.
— César Vallejo
I have met gunpowder: gunpowder moves past with death: gunpowder is turncoat: gunpowder explodes on the earth: gunpowder carpets the earth with shrapnel and flashes: gunpowder slows to a stop: gunpowder passes on by: gunpowder seeks out: gunpowder takes cover: gunpowder disguises itself as flame: gunpowder is thunder from combat: gunpowder is the smoke coming off death: gunpowder burns blood into ruins and corners: gunpowder breaches: gunpowder passes on by: gunpowder, underhanded: gunpowder and its gusts: gunpowder and its lightning bolts: I have met death.
Epigraph from “Hymn to the Volunteers for the Republic,” translated by Clayton Eshleman.