The wicked and the divinity
of this generation divided
Flux trembler in the memory of saints and the
Idiots that we were
to believe in a world of gracious nature
My posture erected the posts of time
between rubble of a generous man hunt for goodness
Who would believe the triumph glistening
on our broadened shoulders
Turning from confused boys into temperate men
from half witted pretty girls into esteemed women
I look around at you all
knowing the rock beneath me
is the same as yours.
All that shale and wicker baskets that held nothing
but a glimpse of truth
But we knew it then as we know it now,
face to face there is no doubt.
You are the length of my philosophy
My garden of Eden exposed
My lovely Adam.
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