A Different War
Stepping deeper I scalp a lake
Capping the drowned on my jitters.
We break together
A lamprey sonnet painted thin.
August was poor but martyrdom is still preferred
By most tribes of daze bumping dirt medicine.
I know when I rise from the me for dead,
You'll swim to drown this lake well bombed.
The ham we raise should assertively perish
A trait fooling musk in its everlasting fade.
Taxidermy for the Sportsman
Darling my darling,
Your miracles lend us the absent sight of dealerships
A suburban blubber,
Our link to a rawhide pain
So done with my ills and now we'll go ahead
And fluff your feathers with a blow dryer,
Happily removing this breakfast weave.
I need no more pleasure
Seeking a place where we are of no resemblance.
O darling my darling,
I'm stoned as the hinterland enamel,
And roundly enamoring
Your greed to spend a lot of dough
When we medicate our perfect push-up bra
With the miracles sung and now I'll go ahead
And churn the absence lending us sight,
A well worn pain seeking pleasure
From the billions of blow dryers hung.
RC Miller © 2009
Thomas Edison Service Area
O my the speed is what happens
All in the name of our seat.
Plastic builds one thing,
To bash glass is another
Civilization thought doomed.
Eastern cables hook the Western lung.
A cigarette at every rest stop.
Little crickets and thoughts of doom.
Freed a king
But not a resource.
O dearest daughter,
O dearest rat,
Freshly these mountains boil.
Their pools collect the absolute
In fortified gothic casinos
Lint free and buffed as desired.
Unsettled as a vacuum,
My shrines are removed using long ropes.
An exhausted tagline is hissing
From the inhibitor of sour lamps.
Pigs everywhere, sterilizing scalpels,
Passing ironic gas and epitaphs.
I depend upon them to blend my quiet detonation,
Tendrils of pulp toward ripe destinations.
And the graves insert impacted antlers,
Shirtless and digging up for my nightmare
Vain butter flickering supreme vinegar.
Weird Flashlights in the Deer Feed
As will of oak and actions implemented,
Restless is our labor
Pallid by bandaged lotus wafers.
Mattress farms just back from the battle
Shriek weird flashlights in the deer feed,
Hatching for our oath
A final burden then redemption.
Each time they start to writhe
Descendants of the cannonball tail.
My habitual jellies
Attend a musk no roots may erase.
I surrender the menu.
You surround my aura.
In mimes I start to writhe
Like our parts healing
An action of pensive rags
Burrowing the wax sun retraced.
Bulbs stiff with kin
Suspending this mechanical dawn
Welt your fins and calm
A staff of magazine inspired spawn.
RC Miller © 2009