For Zeus (Some Say Poseidon)

by Edward Alan Bartholomew 

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That statue of a god, with godly state,

whose clenching fist and arching back expand

to free the thund'rous trident from command,

will hold his step and ever warn and wait.

That statue of a god dares uncreate

that Sculptor of a god, Whose waxen hand,

in image of Himself, prepared to stand

those ankles, feet, and knees that spell his gait.

Gouge out his eyes and skyey senate seat;

his absence reassures Us, Men, the stellar

blanket warms but nameless moons and stars;

that fire that rises from an earthy cellar

lends itself and names it solely Ours,

so that Our liver is Our own to eat.