Posted by Atticus on December 2, 2004, at 16:12:31
Neon-Tinted Stigmata Glow
Sidewalk sermon awash in the sacramental hiss
Of Pentecostal tentacles wrought from subway mist
Caressing a holy fool who clutches in his fist
Steam-grate salvation for urban sinners in the midst
Of penitential pilgrimages across Post-It note lists,
Personal cubicle purgatories, sites of hopeless trysts
Where beige fabric lakes of fire pucker for a molten kiss,
Lost lambs type memo prayers, aware something’s amiss,
Weep for silicon-chip icons to take them away from this,
But the Holy Ghost’s flowing from the street preacher’s lips,
Luminous in exhaled puffs of piety lost in the abyss
As stiletto December winds slice scripture into bloody bits,
And neon-tinted stigmata glow but no one has the wits
To seek divinity in rags and grasp just how well that fits.
poster:Atticus
thread:423458
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/write/20040925/msgs/423458.html