The agitation persists in the roots.
Getting down to business,
right attitudes and all,
we absorb each other into our thinking,
correct our timepieces,
and go about shuffling.
Meanwhile, yesterday’s masks
lay neatly disorganized
upon the unstable plane of remembering.
I’ve given up fuming,
zooming in on discord
until the focus implodes
and leaves its colored dust
all over my body’s floor.
There’s more happening in whispers
than anyone has attention for.
Everything will come gurgling
to the surface eventually,
the varied agendas and dogmas
that keep things insufferable.
They play this tension
like an out-of-tune lute.
-r. miller
*Insert Propaganda Here* 