American Dream

Standard

Freaked figments
of a hive mind
matter not in these climes.

Nor do rusted rhymes
or bent bicycles.

The cyclical nature of fashion
screams out of the suicide wounds
bound to the collective delusion.
I bring these profusions
of disappointment
to dismantle achievement.

Holy bereavement!
This song’s out of tune,
out of luster.

-r. miller

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