For clear air’s sake.
A pocket of rock.
There it lay.
But if rains.
And if dumb slumber.
Soft descending.
Look at the inside.
A bath of vice.
Moth dust and paper flakes.
Like sinews each act tethers.
The true pure.
Accidental.
Suck the juice.
Unlearn.
-r. miller
*Insert Propaganda Here* 