To Go Further Still

I am writing these out
so as to better facilitate their manifestation.
Soft air, moist heart, limitless appendages.
The situation liquefies.

For what it’s worth, a fistful of stained glass.
Score one for the underacheiving orgasm.
What opposes the god in the machine.
I carry with me at all times a healthy,
well-intentioned disdain
for those whose sole lust is privilege and prestige.
Authority droops and retracts
when confronted with genuine desire.

Melt these words upon your ready tongue.
Find emancipation in their dissolution.
Strange entities drift like dirigibles.
Have we noticed the patterns,
if any exist? Our lot isn’t to merely subsist,
but to flourish, to burst dams and break codes,
to loosen the yoke that binds each and all
to the self-perpetuating spectacle.

Roll down the windows.
Accelerate indefinitely.

-r. miller