Street-corner prophets
lay out newspaper headlines,
like the word of God in witness,
at the feet of passersby.
“You’ll be sore afraid.
Buy a Mazzarati.
You can shave your beard,
but n—z get lined up for adultery.
Pork.
Lobster—"
(thus saith the LORD)
comes incoherent the sermon on the curb.
Street-corner profits:
a buck or two for the homeless man
offering benedictions
for blind eyes turned and heads let hang.
One keeps silent.
Another rambles.
One lets his pants down
to the ankles.
