A Certain Kind Of Holy Men
Not every wino is a Holy Man.
Oh, but some of them are.
I love those who've learned
to sit comfortably
for long periods with their hams
pressed against their calves,
with a wall for a back-rest,
contentedly saying nothing.
These move about only when
on foot, and almost always
I think of them as oblates.
Christ's blood is in their veins
or they thirst for it.
They have looked into the eyes
unprotected by smoked glass.
A Mysterious Naked Man
A mysterious naked man has been reported
on Cranston Avenue. The police are performing
the usual ceremonies with coloured lights and sirens.
Almost everyone is outdoors and strangers are conversing
as they do during disasters when their involvement is
'What did he look like? ' the lieutenant is asking.
'I don't know, ' says the witness. 'He was naked.'