Nicholas Grider

from THE BOOK OF FORMER WISDOM

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No foothills just one red world red rock blue world blue temple black doorway, kindness

this is not kindness, kindness is not an understory, closure is not narrative, I’m just like you, the
skinny blue-eyed malach said, and hey kid, he said, put a lid on the freakout

climbing without moving, witness without seeming like a daydream, terror

the terror of audience, abundance, the terror of beginning middle and end, there are three
malachim in tailored suits, one long island iced tea, uncounted sources of light and you

the terror of understory, the terror of naming in which you live

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no Aristotelian rescue from a finger, though God is neither the finger nor the pointing

you got a right, spent

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faith, like all soap operas, must