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
