8/18/17

Standard

Had I wished this otherwise,
you’d all be hailstones by now.
Upon the furrowed brow of decency,
a plateau of quivering glass
arises surreptitiously.
They say it gets interesting here,
but you know I have my doubts,
and I distribute them daily
with handfuls of ganja dust.
Just look at the signs, the omens I mean!
What’s that they’re birthing?
If you can’t tell from this angle,
hold your precepts like a rosary
and start praying like hell.
No one owes us any favors,
as is the flavor of the day.
I’m slightly capable of grinding my own bones.
Nationwide disruption.
I wasn’t put here to merely function,
or was I? Lately, the evenings close
with careless chemical spills,
and we’ve come up with a way
to distil the lresidue into a soothing spirit.
Let’s hear it for resourcefulness!
and with a forcefulness
not even death can muster,
we come careening through the cobwebs
to seize history by the throat.

-r. miller

8/16/17

Standard

Whatever we’d said amongst friends
has steadily grown fat in the cold
of this dismal atmosphere.
It wasn’t until post-coitus
that we’d reappear like dandelions
with twice the tenacity.
Something like cognizance overflows
the opal dome of domesticity,
that, frankly, I’ve been trying to rupture
since that day I pulled a nerve.
Next time, act like an undeserving pest.
Yours is the last request I’ll ever honor.
Sonority’s a drag,
and the weather’s feathery implements…
Lastly, we consent to be collared
with a shock and awe kind of strategy,
and from there,
it stagnates, an antiquated metric.
One can only play dead for so long
before the scavengers start salivating.

-r. miller

8/14/17

Standard

It’s this dumb dark
you carry with you
that shreds my disposition
and threads it through
the keyhole which affords me
my sole chance
of even glimpsing you.

I too carry my own dark,
but in stark contrast
to the courage I perceive
in the way you carry yours,
I hold mine at a distance,
afraid of what might happen
should I hold it too close.

-r. miller

8/11/17

Standard

Have I given enough thought?
I sought to pacify the plangency,
ritual elegance undusted,
shifty whispers from a trusted friend.
Nowhere this is ending semi-abruptly
to fixate on badness.
My mouth in a madness utters “One.”
Shutters sideways eyed.
Manic dances descried.
More salt for the devouring wound.

-r. miller

8/9/17

Standard

An anomaly is approaching
the surface of this thought
woven from dry, brittle yarns
whose colors have faded
and ceased to captivate
more discerning eyes.
Of course the time
for despising has passed.
The downcast pedestrians
retreat into yearning, arms crossed,
pockets full of remembrance,
poking holes in the fog.
Catalogs of ghost towns
rest easy on the pyres
with which we’ll commemorate
the waxen moon.
We tread with irregular step
across these dunes of salt and bother,
false brothers and sisters
until the end peels back its velvet skin.
Within each of us is a hymn to the sea.
As the electric storm of our pride
expends itself in azure sputters,
the melody runs its fingers
through the sky.
The reply is vapor.
Needlessly, a hair is disturbed.
A paper rose is crushed.

-r. miller

8/7/17

Standard

Hold on to your delirium.
The diatribe mechanism
is gummed up with sunshine.
And the legions of cold sores
gathering in the distance
show no signs of accomplishing anything.
Pompous and ponderous,
I wrap myself in a discursive shroud
and push penance aside.
Walk beside me, feral one,
that we may walk as equals.
Already, three sequels
have been commissioned,
and I’ve grown numb to the weeds.

-r. miller

8/5/17

Standard

It isn’t like I had it any better,
but a wetter kind of climate
wrapped me up and took me in its throat.
I’ve been fatigued and bloated
since the beginning. I couldn’t tell you
where that is, but you can see it
with your fingers, so go from there.
I’ll take whatever care is necessary
to conceal my withered flesh from you,
my dreamy worm. Other sources
will confirm this, and cause you
great discomfort in so doing.
We’ll be wilted and wooing
the usual suspects in a minute or two.
Now – tilt your head back
and down this moody brew.
Chew the scenery, but don’t swallow.
Wallow in the weaponized filth.
Strange bacteria will keep us
from sleep forevermore.

-r. miller