all the world is a lie and every quieting thing is consumed
there is no solace or shelter or even threat of drowning
and it's business as usual
storm clouds gather mid day heat and they thunder and groan
cast large grey shadows full with cold wind
birds whistle squack scream and scatter

twenty dollars on a slow horse can't change nothin.

(alibaster green fucking hope-
turtullian bleak-
sunshiny rain-
big savage fishes[nobles, lords]-
steaming blacktops laid thick with writhing
wriggling worms-
red clay banks ought not hold and shelf and
fall and slide and crumble dirt cloud
in water-
things pierce and flay an ego-
lurch on tho-
no matter)

By Travis Miller

travis miller is a middle relief pitcher for the unnaffialated minor league baseball team the Alief Maples. A sado-masochist who loathes poetry and loves rejection, he hopes your editors might help with this fetish. oooooo baby!