Warmer ‘neath the Bridge
Warmer neath the Bridge
saint crackhead
stood outside the store
he never asked for much
he helped old ladies with the door
and had cold bread for lunch
he lived in sartorial squalor
underneath my bridge, my view
of privileged chains held tight in place
among us lost
us Few
(sorry, I’ve had to order my 2nd keyboard
for this laptop, i am a sight typer, and even
that ain’t so hot, and half my key faces are gone.)
He warmed His Place with but a Candle
his needs were only Few
He held his Station of the Cross
a Cross that few could handle
and YOU
walk by Him
Every Day
Did you Ever?
turn your Eyes his Way
or stop to consider
The Weightiness of his Stay
a dollar tossed into His Cup
With a look of high Disdain
Your Saint and Savior
saved your Soul
’tis you Who Bear The Shame
I knew such a man, name of TC, in Columbus
Ohio in the 1990s. My friend Rod says he
stands outside the same grocery, although
the name of the grocery chain has been
changed.