No More Tolerance Breaks

by r. miller

A reflex punctuated in fragmented perspectives, 
maintaining a hold on a collective of error. 
Slivers, reflective, occupy an exasperating span 

penetrating the furor, a rail of delirium 

devoted to the weakening of salivary glands. 
Beckoning speech is perhaps the most 
difficult function. Tingling hands in conjunction 

with failed forays into the blind depths 

of the mirror keep the situation in check. 
And to think – I once proudly decked myself in 
specks of syntax. Even my heftiest acts 

were distressed in tinsel, spread like haughty fumes 

but connecting with poverty
(Which through simple mathematics 
becomes poetry.Just trust me on that) 

and a well ordered hat to house my head.

-r. miller

About these ads