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forget the gods; read the rest

Walcott:

“I never read it,”
I said. “Not all the way through.”
The lift of the

arching eyebrows paralyzed me like the Medusa’s
shield, and I turned cold the moment I had said it.
“Those gods with hyphens, like the Hollywood producers,”

I heard my mouth babbling as ice glazed over my chest.
“The gods and the demi-gods aren’t much use to us.”
“Forget the gods,” Omeros growled, “and read the rest.”