This art which we’ve cultivated
has taken on a certain asymmetry,
an unevenness between
the expected effects and the reality.
In other words, it’s disorder,
disorder with a decadent smile.
I’ve been meaning for a while
to tell you exactly how I’m feeling,
stealing off screen for a couple
of minutes to get everything
off my chest, but something fucks it up
every time I work up the nerve.
So I’m simply swerving my way
along the spectrum of dissatisfaction.
How is it that I always end up
in this situation?
A vocational prerequisite maybe,
like expansive vocabulary.
But the vocabulary we share is a stifled one,
composed of mostly uhms and ahs,
and very few actual words,
sounds that correspond
to a well defined idea, and not
just a state of indecision.

-r. miller


2 thoughts on “Indecision

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