8/18/17

Had I wished this otherwise,
you’d all be hailstones by now.
Upon the furrowed brow of decency,
a plateau of quivering glass
arises surreptitiously.
They say it gets interesting here,
but you know I have my doubts,
and I distribute them daily
with handfuls of ganja dust.
Just look at the signs, the omens I mean!
What’s that they’re birthing?
If you can’t tell from this angle,
hold your precepts like a rosary
and start praying like hell.
No one owes us any favors,
as is the flavor of the day.
I’m slightly capable of grinding my own bones.
Nationwide disruption.
I wasn’t put here to merely function,
or was I? Lately, the evenings close
with careless chemical spills,
and we’ve come up with a way
to distil the lresidue into a soothing spirit.
Let’s hear it for resourcefulness!
and with a forcefulness
not even death can muster,
we come careening through the cobwebs
to seize history by the throat.

-r. miller

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