Sunday, June 8, 2014
Momma Don't Allow
When they came for the banjos
I was all hush, hush and no
word spoken.
All ye, all ye in free. Come out, come out
wherever you are “Brother, are you saved? “
my good old man would ask
anybody, a
passer-by on the streets
of Hershey, say:
his Fool for Christ days, a foolish contra-
diction & hobgoblin
for little minds.
“Brighten the Corner Where
You Are”
Nana would tickle the keys
at the homeless
shelter. Slumgullion for supper but
first: hark—listen. Let
him who has
ears to hear, hear. Oyez.
Oyez.
Crucial: the crux of the
matter.
Essence of Xtianity for
some: the
centrality of the cross: x
marking
the spot. .
(Cross Roads, a
variant--where the
devil is said to hang out,
and the
birth of the blues is born
and born
again)
Torn between 2 loves.
Excruciating.
My good old man described
his
monumental EGO as
crucified—
making that otherwise
morbid fetal
image seem lovely,
beautifully
descriptive.
Transformative.
Suffers in translation. To
die for.
Alchemical. Lead to gold. Miracle.
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