Perhaps I could deal with a flooded
world,
a
sky when the sun stopped marching at noon,
or
an angry god who hated Philistine platoons
depending
on the day of the week.
I
might be amenable to ten basic codes
chiseled
into heartless Sinai stone
or
be persuaded to dismantle my golden calf
and
babble an extra language or two
if
I were a Barnum and Bailey madcap wandering Jew.
All
of these insults and demands would be just fine
if
I could grow old with a long white beard
and
have my servants’ feet trample the harvest
into
a dozen blends of red, full-bodied wine,
if
I could sit peacefully outside my tent
and
survey sheep and wives and concubines.
My
son could riff and wail on an oxen horn,
my
daughter wiggle a mean hoochie coo
on
desert land where the wind blows hot
and
Yahweh more than a little cold.
I’d
be more than amenable, more than fine
to
watch sheep and wives and concubines.
~William Hammett
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