04/23

By Austin Miles

bottle of
water
(metal,
clings)
 
in the middle
of the rug
cheap paint flakes
the neighbors burn
something
 
i feel v. useless— 
    truly i will live a long time!
smelling broken leaves; washing clods of mud

---

05/01

By Austin Miles

blank side
blanker than
most i
              stare @
the internet
so long my eyes hurt
 
while leaves
+ petals swell
over the course
   of days— 
i glance @ them
occasionally
 
on rainy days
             rainy sheen
             dropping the haze
down
i walk my dog
+ gawk @
block brick houses
 
elegant w/
dogwood + raindrop
+ in alleys lined
w redbud + — 
rainy i listen to the sound
of nobody being around

---

05/21

By Austin Miles

my eyes ache—a robin
i sit in a chair
4 ten hours a day
coffee + complaints
 
in the morning
emptiness of lawns echoing chirps
i see bugs everywhere
 
+ wish my
eyes would melt

---

06/11

By Austin Miles

i don’t do anything so i feel bad
            + when i feel bad
i don’t do anything
 
hooked into
rain like u
             can’t believe
 
 
solving life w regressions

---

08/20

By Austin Miles

dried sunflower
head
on a
metal table
 
flash of
lightning
in the pink
 
cloud ringed sky
w/ blue gray...
+ some asshole
won’t stop beeping their car
 
“strawberry flavor w/ other natural flavors
 
 
 
no calories no sweeteners all smiles”
 
conversely (talking w/ myself
here) the power, empower,
pleasure, whatever, sometimes
comes from not recording +,
even, forgetting

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​Austin Miles is from southeast Ohio. He is the author of the chapbook Perfect Garbage Forever (Bottlecap Press) and has poems published in Osmosis Press, Petrichor, and elsewhere.