Poem: Trial by Ordeal

 

Trial by Ordeal

O, Job! O, Job!
When God dropped the hedge
and satan took
property and kin,
did he also
steal the “e” that should
be in your name?
Your curse is to walk
earth’s dusty paths
and say, “Actually,
it’s pronounced Jōb.”

O, Job! Poor, poor Job!
condemned to be
so very alōn.

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