Recollections of a College Party

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So I am in America as a youth
culture jammer, hands thick wads
of paper thrown in some backalley
getaway. Streams of slang gangsters
with their wingtipped array
of oceans gunning down all
semblance of clarity in a thunder
of rooms. Awaiting eminent dialogues
and bodily autonomy, slivers of murk
flung into tremors and the rift
between her thighs like a fierce red
metronome, slummed in the dead air.
My method is simple –
enthralled in the dissonance,
I burn Anarchy
                      through a sphere.

-r. miller

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