Paganistan: Notes from the Secret Commonwealth
In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.
World Stag
They say that once long ago,
when the sky was in danger of falling,
he caught it up on his antlers
and held it,
and that way we weren't all crushed.
They say that it's him
as holds up the sky on his antlers
still, to this day.
So that's why they call him the World Stag,
and we wheel round his stang in our dance.
Well, that's what they say.
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