Our history is a wire shoulder of preludes
Crossing through thick
And gushing over apples
The unknown condemn.
I'm on and drawing
Out knives of
Assaulting my kidnapped victims
With fat snow.
Your suffocation shall be granted
If these bags inflate toxins,
Or else the vacant pods and palaces
Will reward your dice
Some lavishly parked deception.
For us who truly embody
A thread of replicated harmony
Provides the strength to continue
Garnishing more hammers.
I admire my message to the rural champions.
I admire my amputation of the lunar sigh.
I am distinctly buried in a fetal position.
The behavior of my vulnerable corridors
Gives your ox its spontaneous genetic frenzy.
So long and elegant is my piss behind this bar stool.
And suddenly there's access to sacred expulsions.
Suddenly my lurking hires an urgent sanctuary.
My despair sells the kids for boxes.
My faith it sells the cat for condiments.
The solar intelligence drags my intestines
Through hair and masks like an open-legged hemlock.
And the ape it strokes
Its cereal with toothpaste on toilet paper.
The pebble it skips
A spelling of a same pile two years late.
As a solider I balance
My sword inheriting total clot control.
O indeed I'm blended, but sit down motherfucker,
I still pray
For fragments within me to judge what's small and tragic.
The crops they're whipping like motherfuckers,
And I'm hit while praying
Those sirens are hungry for my manicured image.
And it goes without saying
I'm full of the real paradox.
Birth after birth,
My stringy pollen layers itself
To prime the infant's waning grill.
O it goes without saying,
My grand birth of afterbirths
Is a dim passage
Where shepherds may scratch inscriptions
Who cannot forget his stolen egg sky.
My steak gets wild while pursuing your carpeted paradise.
My mind expands due to trendy gadgets
Taxing turkey sausage and a flawed condom
Splattered on the flinching sidewalk.
It's shocking how photographs
Probe the inner emotions of holidays,
And successfully signal an imprinted doomsday
That cares so much for nailclippers buttfucking mortality.
And yes it's shocking how precisely
My new master stares
At each of my treasons as if his cheese
Rapes a digital membrane queen.
The rent checks slip on passed out candy.
I'm shocked stiff, protecting my drugs
From an identity load of divine iron junk
Awake and hunting.
The same old story, the population is groggy,
Screens and diets discuss their titties
Like a broiled lamb chop
Saving birthday decoys from migraines.
I may be vague, but I assure you I'm not ill.
With every mile, my prison becomes more marketable,
Capturing these poses in a committed spotlight
Crawling back to the irresistible burning.
RC Miller was born 1974 in Parkersburg, West Virginia, and currently lives in New York City. He may be found at VisionBlues.blogspot.com.