Last night, god dropped
its hairnet on the valley of lesser note.
Not that I believe in gods or valleys,
but the effect holds true regardless.
I came in through egress point A
to find the moon a blue balloon,
squeaky surface and all,
by unfortunate chance obstructing
egress point B, thereby forcing me
to learn my place. I wore a weird
expression on my face
(Gotta keep up personae, you know),
and my face wore an even weirder
expression on me. Kind of knotty
and gnarled like a branch
torn from a centuries-old oak tree.
The garden grifted the people
my people for a shot
at getting in my pants.
Thus it was I learned to dance
as dire and as dour
as an early morning rain.
-r. miller
*Insert Propaganda Here* 