One morning I woke up to find my hand
had become the Hand of God; I was overjoyed.
I reached into the sky and grabbed a plane
on a very bad mission and set it down in a field.
No, you must not do that, I said to the pilot. I
had to say it several more times, sternly, with
other planes — cars and trucks too. I plucked
and crushed the guns out of the tiny hands of some
soldiers. No, don’t shoot guns, I said. Don’t hurt
your fellow humans. Don’t kill babies. Stop it.
I had to do it again, again and again with soldiers
and civilians alike throughout the long and terrible
day. So much so that I got angry and my Hand
began clenching, clenching but I managed to stop
myself from killing them all — the fucking fools,
the idiots, the whole goddamned world — before
the sun had set. I prayed to have my hand back
and the next day it was. ……….All I can do now
is shake my fist.
