bumpy sidewalk
with shady providence

ambulatory pencil
flashes his lexicon

street name: Pontiff
smells of smoked paprika,
cinnamon, relish
& sausage bun

& declares truth

raising himself
above the concrete pode

reading his palms
of selfish words —
a slice of his blood orange
insufficient to prepare
this marmalade

but he’s sound & sincere
sparing us the obscene rants
& obviously bland motifs

hair’s clean
or maybe bald
below his paisley beanie

laying a serene missive
on ears going by:

free will’s heavier than missiles
chase clouds over paper
behold black birds
veering around a bend
grade the qualities of rain
dissect wind as scientific prey
watch life like silent films
& supply your own subtitles
for instant truth 
 _________________________________________

Background image: Graphic design by Trina Layne – Applications used were Microsoft Paint & Canva