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machina miller Feb 2016
a carapace lingers, crawls along
with the aid of the breeze
a deflated husk

small dead object remaining
in the graveyard planet desert sea
drifting off the flat-earth mesa

this is no elysium
but it is no tartarus
this is cleaned slate
machina miller Feb 2016
LXI
superimposed oneiric state
indelible fogginess
behind my eyes

in this,
myself is reticent to myself

I do not wish to fear
but I do wish
to be able to
machina miller Feb 2016
LIX
a giant orange rolls over the horizon
propped up by the skeleton of a titan
dripping citrus flesh o'er the land

as it's adversary ascends the briny depths
a colossal sushi roll, avocado and yam tempura
the battle of the senses begins

the apocalypse never looked so delicious
machina miller Feb 2016
klaxon bleat
pounding cephalic cavity
overloaded with tensile pressure

two horse-wagons
chained afore and aft of the brain
pull in opposite ways

the resultant event
equal parts

vacuity,

and rapture
machina miller Feb 2016
stencil skin
perforated by thousands of honeycombs
stretched over a canvas of bones
a grey eye of the storm
inside solenoid ribs
electromagnetic apparatus

stained by organisms
without programming
ceaseless reproduction
asexual monolithic tyrant womb entity
gaping mouth
holocaust of birth

avatar of terror
antithesis of providence
machina miller Feb 2016
LI
incapacitated by some tempest flowing
this hurling of corpus christened
by chiseling the grooves out of the rock in the skull

the reading of an autobiographical eulogy
hammers all the finger-nails to the headboard

decapitating all extraneous heads
warning to all extracurricular heads
beware all ye extraordinary heads

a grand still-life choreographed exorcism

open mouth and out floods flock of butterflies
breast-pocket bursts and doves alight

strychnine catharsis

there is no sensation
like the removal of weight
machina miller Jan 2016
XLI
with charon as thy chauffeur
subsume thyself in the guise of the left hand of god
complement part and parcel in opposite
trudge that weary path of darkness
scathe thyself
in the burning retribution of saint michaels sword

in the burning retribution of saint michaels sword
live for the pain that teaches what it means to be alive
do not obsess of love and purity
you alone hold the hand you are dealt
there is light and there is pain
there is terrible hunger
there is weight and there is unbearable weight
there are things we can not and do bear

live by the sword;  die at the wheel
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