Street Gospel Mystical Intellectual Survival Codes
2nd Avenue Station On
The F Line; 2:00 am
The harlequin freezes on subway platforms
and the mime pretends to drop a quarter in his cup.
The rats feed on his worn out shoes
as Christ wanders the tracks looking for
the new multitudes.
I stand there drunk,
thinking of you
on a night where hope had been crucified
and the moon hides behind shadows.