Those who were sparrows
waxed the harrows,
and when the harrows were broken,
words were spoken and retracted
with unforeseeable force.
There were, of course,
laugh lines on the landscape
where we had dared to tread.
Nothing at all in anyone’s head,
save for a stray axiom or two,
discovered living in rather
loathsome conditions.
Even after numerous revisions,
this is the best we could come up with:
a paper town full of paper people,
so amusingly breakable.
Not the most workable of models,
but what else could have been done?
So after all the weird fun had slipped
beneath the wedlocked door,
we serious few stared at our thumbs,
sincerely dying in dumb expectation.
The fangs of creation were gnarled and free,
maliciously eager for the feel of our flesh.

-r. miller

2 thoughts on “3.30.18

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