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Under Bridges
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Yesterday while walking,
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Beneath an overpass,
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I saw the figure of Jesus,
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Standing barefoot on broken glass.
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His beard was graying,
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The smell of urine filled the air,
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Asking if I had some change,
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Anything that I could spare.
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Emaciated,
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His shaking fists balled up,
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Influenza and pneumonia,
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Begging God to take his cup.
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So different from his pictures,
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Breathing air through yellowed tubes,
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Jesus Christ, dying of AIDS,
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Can look right through you.
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And all have hated,
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Crucified and walked away,
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The Savior of the prostitutes,
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Drunkards, rapists, and the gays.
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Under bridges,
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With hands raised,
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>From the ghettos they praise his name.
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Broke and crippled in the dark of night,
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Raise your voices to Jesus Christ,
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Hallelujah.
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Under Bridges
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| Brave Saint Saturn |
