elliot r. wolfson

on one foot dancing

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so fast the rhyme

so fast the rhyme that appear slow
to the cripple jumping below
on line that demarcate the sign
of judgment opening the mind
blinded in its effort to see
intemperance of necessity
to wake we walk and walk to wait
fastened at gate of fattened faith
forever fumbling reason’s froth
forever chipping logic’s tooth
if one is one, one is two,
but if two are one, one is three
impossibly simple in its complexity
the bee deliver her honey
to hallowed hive of hopelessness
where the inculpable confess
to breaking laws obediently
in shivering flame of anarchy
that consume entrails of love
descending from shadow above
sacrificial lust sprinkled like blood
on wheel of time stuck in the mud
paralyzed by truth left unspoken
lingering in holy word wholly broken

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