So the smattering
distresses, distances, lays me
and all of us low for the grasping.
An artifice of malicious contrivance
doubles down and antes up,
but somehow I remember
the odd look of the light
and its violence. I’m at it again
in the ensuing brawl,
the windows shiver at the sound
of my bulky heart speaking in tongues.
No, I am a computer.
So the fabrication
whispers, witnesses, bears me
and all of us down sullen tracks
made for the taking.
If ever any of this is to end,
then it ends right now.
-r. miller
*Insert Propaganda Here* 
fine job
g.r.
Thank you! 😎