Entropic Strains

The matter of happening
elicits entropic strains.
For my worth,
what it’s actually,
incessantly,
drills delirium
through incandescent veins.
Times we were the streets
assailed by sheets
of burning rain.
Here lies a quandary.
And here lies a focal point.
I move to still
the screeching in my joints,
enjoining the light
of the other accidental denizens
of this industrial wonderland.
One hand raises
a cracked cup to cracked lips,
the other is caught fidgeting.
And over the pulse of traffic,
the blue wails of the Sirens…

-r. miller

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