I hated him enough to go against

my God, my people, and my best instincts.

God's jealous. Tough. Traffic with the dead stinks

in His nostrils. You'd have to lose all sense

to let a peasant boy like David fence

you in that way. God's mousetrap! Now, God thinks

David. And unthinks Saul. Unties those links

to everything I loved. Instant past tense

 

my sons, my reign—my life…. But tell me, God,

what special piety Your David has.

Like Saul, he's just a man. A hunk of sludge,

some flecks of righteousness: a splendid clod

of dirt. God, I'm a father—or I was.

And flesh loves flesh. Impossible to budge….