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Go to the wilderness, they told him.
Go there to meet God.
But when he went,
He built a mansion in his own image,
And no one stayed his hand
When he sacrificed all their sons.
An Estate,
They called it in polite company.
A Second Estate.
He always fancied himself French, after all.
Did he imagine the eye of a needle
Was as wide as those limestone arches?
Or did he really care for no kingdom but his own?
