Tuesday, April 10, 2012

poem


Yea And There Shall Be Signs


It happened on the way home from work
your Road To Damascus moment, Lent on the wane,
traffic moving, sun shining, window cracked

on a warm one, epiphany, like egg size
hail on a bright blue day, difficult to reconcile
but hard to ignore maybe harder

to divine the message behind the minor
traffic altercation between fellow pilgrims, one
an off season Santa Claus in a rust bucket

Ford wagon, vanity plate KRSKRGL1, seasonal
bumper stickers I Brake For Reindeer and
so on, the other a Leaf ferrying two

women wearing hijab’s, talking animatedly,
driving fast, provoking the wrath of Jolly St. Nick,
thinner, crustier in the flesh, smartly cutting him

off then speeding away leaving him behind,
the Man in Red apoplectic, boney left
hand thrust out the window in a hearty

FUCK YOU!, Fuller Brush hair wreathed in
exhaust and cigar smoke, one brief glimpse
of the divine, deigned by an 

incomprehensible deity or a God in Groucho 
glasses, eye brows a-bob,  
the eternal dichotomy, yours to ponder. 

1 comment:

  1. too funny to be true...except it was...

    ReplyDelete