Looks like I’ve gotta
polish up the peculiarities.
Never you mind what I said,
I’m not saying it now.
Someday we’ll all be miracles, right?
As if that were a saving grace.
We race brazenly downhill
with paper mache saints
grasping at our heels
and it just feels so glorious!
To be out of reach like that,
one step ahead like that,
giving our living breath
to the earth like that.
Of all they said we’d grow out of,
it’s this I cherish most deeply.
-r. miller
*Insert Propaganda Here* 