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I’m spinning out the theological implications of a very different WS Merwin poem to ‘Home for Thanksgiving’, which I wrote about on this blog on Saturday. In the same book, he has a one-liner called ‘Savonarola’, which goes, “Unable to endure my world and calling the failure God, I will destroy yours.”
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Yesterday, it appears my daughter left a message, in a very posh voice, on her friend's parents’ answerphone:
"Hello. I'm the prime minister, David Cameron. Can I help you? If I can, press 9. If you don’t want my help, press 0.”
If only it were that simple.
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