The Word Cloud

3rd and Washington, Hoboken, Feb 6, 2000

                                                                                                      by David Neves                                                                                  

He looks like Christ-
not quite sculpted wood;
an unpresentable homily
a malodorous anomaly that
takes no shelter on
the Sunday school wall
in pontificating Saxon superiority;
nevertheless-in stainless steel humility he
lifts styrofoam chalice to superior lips
sermonizing to no one nowhere who
do not chant in unison
as I sit and watch
musing in passive observation
I see that-

He looks like Christ-
not quite sculpted wood
an unpresentable homily
a malodorous anomaly that is
crucified daily in parabolic dichotomy
knowing that "whosoever sins the most
casts more stones"
again and again and again
in what remains of morning of
pity without compassion
in loveless lust HE
takes no refuge under the arches
in sleepless pilgrimage but
WE as vicarious martyrs with
moral remote control still
MUST see him from the street
in passing through the window that-

He looks like Christ-
not quite sculpted wood;
an undeniable homily-
a perishing anomaly with a message
that cannot reach,
that will not reach,
that must not reach...
"PLEASE STAND BY,
WE ARE EXPERIENCING TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES.