The Wheel of Fortune
By Alison Stone
From my eternal turning, everything
that falls can rise and what goes up
can plummet like a torn balloon.
I am painted with the law of fate.
What falls can rise and what goes up…
An old story, thick with questions.
I am painted with the law.
The breath of this law is concealed in its letters.
History thickens with questions.
The way the moon masks herself as a woman
and the breath of the law is concealed in its letters,
the Grail hides in your kitchen sink.
Old moon masked as a woman,
soul obscured by flesh,
the Grail hides in your kitchen sink.
Wealth passes into winter, war into song.
The soul costumed as flesh
can plummet like a torn balloon.
Wealth passes into winter, war into song.
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