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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