Which Way?

Going on the going
solely, fitfully
abstracted, indeterminate.
The names have you.
Which way, Western man?
Loudly ball breaking,
shape the mists.
Dub thee misfit,
come languish in my tree.
One sudden simultaneous
ablaze from margin to margin.
You’d make a decent garden,
though the soil be untamed.
By the weekend,
we’ll all undo.
Readiness, careening.

-r. miller

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s