Drawing by Judith Wolfe
Sam Silva

Poem


      HOBO SONG

      On such a desperate path as this,
      the dead in Jesus shuffle through
      such streets as March has marked with wind

      toward destiny's convenience stores
      and soda shops
      and libraries

      to read religion for a shoe
      that keeps the journey wise and dumb.

      In a world of pedophiles and whores
      who offer up the sacred kiss
      the meat of saints is bought and tinned

      ...from whence they came...they have no clue
      ...and much less where they're going to
      in this disaster of God's wrath

      only that they always sinned
      in doing what they always do
      or failing even to do that

      and that they met some cherished friends
      on such a desperate path....


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