← v8n2, Fall 2009
Poetry · Volume 8, Number 2

Sighting

I did not see a god,

and the god I did not see was not

the god I was told

to see or call, alternately,

in the trade and settle of God’s country

where the farmer’s root crops

were gone, almost—

Shoot me, said the earth,

like a woman who would not

do it to herself. The ones who heard

convinced her why they could not, why not,

even as they took their sticks

to her in the street.

Shoot me, said the earth. Shoot.