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Fishers of Men

He said to throw our nets and rodsthe other side of the boat—a little guy, only yay highwalking on the surf like he could float. He looked like his feet were the wateror something beneath held him up—like he was a son of the plastera flicking paint piece from the stars. So somebody let him walk on waterthat God first ...

St. Sebastian

Trembled by the muscle’s clustered grip On each shaft’s head, the sprouted wood began A bird wing’s measured beat, as if to fan The crisp air with the lifeblood’s giddy clip, Pulsing the measured rhythm’s rise and dip, And flapping the awkward scaffold of the man. It wasn’t according to the archers’ plan, To ...