Poem – The Civil War – Anne Sexton

I am torn in two 

but I will conquer myself. 

I will dig up the pride. 

I will take scissors 

and cut out the beggar. 

I will take a crowbar 

and pry out the broken 

pieces of God in me. 

Just like a jigsaw puzzle, 

I will put Him together again 

with the patience of a chess player. 
How many pieces? 
It feels like thousands, 

God dressed up like a whore 

in a slime of green algae. 

God dressed up like an old man 

staggering out of His shoes. 

God dressed up like a child, 

all naked, 

even without skin, 

soft as an avocado when you peel it. 

And others, others, others. 
But I will conquer them all 

and build a whole nation of God 

in me – but united, 

build a new soul, 

dress it with skin 

and then put on my shirt 

and sing an anthem, 

a song of myself.

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