Ration out the unified soul,

make it many instead of one.


See the breakdown of what is holy,

split into particles

uncomplimentary, wasted.


Trust in the brute because he has

no self-doubt, no self-examination,

Because it is easy to sacrifice

autonomy for certainty

and slice the swan’s wing

for monetary gain.


Before the circle became a line, some

nutshells still held their core – arguments were

for the sake of reflection and deeper knowledge.

When the circle became a line, tyrants were given

free-reign – the mutual exchange

between fear-and-getting replaced morality.

The ones of lights passed away

passed over their passion, replacing

faith with conspiracy theories.


Describe this gift of life.

What does it mean to you?

There are many waves,

one water

equality within the hierarchy

value in no-control.


Death is automatic

but choice

          no God

          yes God

is always


         an open door.



Copyright © 2020 by Allison Grayhurst




First published in “Chicago Record Magazine” August 2020





You can listen to the poem by clicking below:



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