I Know My Rites

Slam dunked like stones

the bones of this here decision
blanched in the acrid sun of a Sahara morn

in mourning we go to our appointed
places on the pentagram
and ham it up as usual
but with less and less enthusiasm
as the spasms of doubt become
more and more pronounced

so what I can renounce anything
I damn well fucking please

these knees for instance
which rumble with uncertainty
whenever a storm hits or a plane crashes
or the silver ashes of my heritage
come tumbling down like snow

-r. miller

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