Theory

Another caffeine headache
rummages around in the gleaming
skull of America. That’s entertainment,
what passes for it anyway.
A sinister aura crawls into the sky,
a major cosmetic overhaul if ever I saw one,
and it spreads its tentacles
across our wafer-thin moon
as if that were its sole vocation.
No one can subsist on that kind of doom.
Make a mental note of that,
add it to the rest, and
with a modicum of purpose,
arrange those notes to form
the cacophonous backbone
of a symphony still in progress.

-r. miller

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