Ganymede by Jericho Brown

            
            A man trades his son for horses. 
            
            That’s the version I prefer. I like 
            
            The safety of it, no one at fault,
            
            Everyone rewarded. God gets 
            
            The boy. The boy becomes 
            
            Immortal. His father rides until 
            
            Grief sounds as good as the gallop 
            
            Of an animal born to carry those 
            
            Who patrol our inherited 
            
            Kingdom. When we look at myth 
            
            This way, nobody bothers saying 
            
            Rape. I mean, don’t you want God 
            
            To want you? Don’t you dream 
            
            Of someone with wings taking you 
            
            Up? And when the master comes 
            
            For our children, he smells 
            
            Like the men who own stables 
            
            In Heaven, that far terrain 
            
            Between Promise and Apology. 
            
            No one has to convince us. 
            
            The people of my country believe
            
            We can’t be hurt if we can be bought.