By Clayre Benzadon
May bells, may bells
continue chiming
Mary’s tears—
nursery
myrtle used
to crown heroes.
Today, lemon-
grass summer
pools deceive
more than usual.
Nursery
chimes sound like
firehammers, when
they work.
They can blow
a skull, bash a fragment
of gunmetal, steel
a teacher—a teacher
always has their students’
backs. That’s how
they work,
molding a mind’s
silver. A different
type of spark.
Soulgiver heroes.
Charcoal cartridge
are chewable
in the jaw,
palpable like
papaya whip
when it runs
pulsing in the mouth,
gun shellac
clash, chase
sunrise lacquer,
ruin a durable
finish.
About the Author
Clayre Benzadon is a recent graduate of Brandeis University with a BA in Psychology and Creative Writing. She is currently Broadsided Press’s Instagram editor. She has been published by Rat’s Ass Review, The Acentos Review, Merrimack Review, Triadae Magazine, and forthcoming in other literary magazines and blogs such as HerStory.
Bullets into Bells 