A Passing Lamentation Poem by Alexander Who Speaks With God
A Passing Lamentation
Lions in
secret places
wearing rubber quicksand faces
Where are the bears
who wait so that they
resemble the
thickets of fate?
Though nothing quite lost,
though shifting mouths
utter "Dross! Dross! Dross! "
and the limbs are as
boneless as foundations can get
and an atmosphere as
disordered as order can get
Wake up Wake up
Cast off your sweat
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8/28/2026 4:17:52 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
