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he Dawn of Reason One morning in the garden of reason The monumental fool divorced his God and died. He didn’t know there was food in that root That seemed to tie him like Gulliver Bound by snappable cord. The dry crack of the great divorce still echoes In the unsteady gait of the proud footless one. Tying on philosophies and bravado like Shoeboxes roped onto stumps He stalks through his world, Conqueror King of fools Death’s prey. Karen Swenholt |
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