They stand where they can.
Principles of comfort disarm them.
And the disorder of the sea,
their warring senses.
Take note of the tension,
the casual alarm rising
from the muddled streets.
I’ve lost all feeling in my feet.
I suppose I’ll have to beat
that out of context now.
Love is a hexagon.
The hotel is in reality a hospital bed.
-r. miller
*Insert Propaganda Here* 