Homeless man
bearded and dirty
wandering the streets
eyes rolling in that
wild horse kinda way
singing chanting praying
it’s all God’s visions
that he sees brought
to him on angel’s wings
so profound his belief
that anger wells within
that the masses cannot
see nor hear the gift
he shares from on high
louder he shouts of salvation
urgently he warns of demons
arms waving wildly
skinny black crow wings
making punctuation marks
at the people passing by
most shake their heads
hoping that he gets help
back on his medication
somehow someway someday
crazy old man always talking
‘bout Jesus coming back
they need to lock him up
While every Sunday morning
in the pulpits of churches
stand the ordained the blessed
men and women of God
who bring the same message
of demons, salvation and
the joyous return of Jesus
some preach sweetly
while others pound away
at the sinners in their midst
the church sings and sways
and all the people say amen
dropping dollars in the plate
full of their self-proclaimed
piety and respectability
some build churches like
impregnable fortresses
self-contained communes of
Jesus Loves You
bookstore gym coffee shop
restroom’s with fancy soap
and heavenly soft two-ply
keeping the world at bay
until heaven’s gate is nigh
locked up tight every night
to keep out homeless preachers
left to lie upon their concrete beds
