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Because I lay on my back as a boy in the grass of the small yard behind our house watching clouds move and become faces, mostly,
No god at all, you do not
work the forge (conscripts
and captives, the poor, do that).
You work the till.
No one begins a man
and ends a god, and you
most certainly have always been
someone or anothers man.
Richard Hoffman lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts.
He is the author of Half the House