Thursday, October 6, 2016


When the gods deserted Anthony, the Sphinx
Heard their music two hundred miles away
And caught a few notes, clapping  them under
Her left forepaw. There they still rest
Buried deep in the sand. Their loss
Made heaven unbalanced, it's harmony
Less rich, less subtle. Miracles still happen
But they are often perverse or lop-eared
And inflict themselves on atheists and folk
Who worship things that are not gods.

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