5.22.19

Leering at the infinite,
some regression or other
throws its hat in the ring.
Kind of takes the sting out of… Wait,
I was going to say something trivial.

Get a load of my ambivalence,
ambience, whatever.
I’m just looking for that certain rapture
that will sever me once and for all
from antipathy.

Under the guise of friendship
came I to this desolate shore,
bones like creaking floorboards
and a head full of pills.
One of my previous personas
spills from my yawning mouth
onto an unsuspecting
phenomenological plane,
creating what you might call
a cause for concern.

Time to get my burn on, I think,
or get burned out.
Diminishing social clout protects me
from taking any of this too seriously.

-r. miller

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