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The Prison of Thought

by Leon Fedolfi

Part 1: The Sermon 


First, let me address why we are all here. 

I am the bear on two legs, and you are the bear on four. 


Speaking and hearing.


You can feel my paws on your shoulders and my breath in your ear. 

What am I whispering?  As I thrust my intent!


God is among us. 


As real as the mud in my fingernails -

beget by sod and rain and Creation.


I talk and my voice fills empty spaces: I speak, hear my speech - in one act of goodness. 


I can see in your attentive faces, 



The Sunlight of original thought.  


In Repletion - He shows Himself in the silver of sameness between disparate things. 


In the differences, I see Savage adjectives.  


You, Jeremy, are murderous. 


You murdered those Comanche children for perversion, an act of cowardice and indulgent shame. 


You also have a nice smile. 


God loves you still, in his wisdom of allowing forgiveness. Even In your false penitence. For, I do believe, the following week, you poisoned their water supply and slaughtered their Bison. 


Do you feel me Jeremy, my press on your neck? I am whispering that God is real, that you are an abomination, you have a nice smile, and that God forgives you. 


I am here to collect your last breath.

About the Author

Leon Fedolfi is a poet living in Brooklyn.

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