elliot r. wolfson

on one foot dancing

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pulsating placidly

pulsating placidly in deceptive portrayal
of utmost cordiality cultivated clumsily
above beyond the possibility
nothing is more possible than the impossible
death we each must differently be
between the moment blank blinking blindly
in weary wink of eye too empty to fill
with tears of time tainted and torn
in crease of craving to hold throbbing throne
skipping like stone atop sanctimonious bone
i write in surplus of self swerving sardonically
from optical delusion to auditory ambivalence
manufactured in the fracture of romance
bending in the backward throw of the glance
who sees but word in white sound pounding
inner drum bleeding its beat in the street
where the footless walk in wakeful dream
the dreamer dreams when she is awake
until she awakes to the dream she is awake

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