Saturday, July 29, 2017

July 29: Pimping WiFi, Meth Addict, Francisco X. Alarcon, "Prayer"

Welcome to Saturday morning at McDonald's.  That's right, I'm at McDonald's right now, pimping off the free WiFi, having breakfast, and being poetic.  I'm surrounded by the normal Saturday morning crowd--old, retired men sitting together and talking politics (they don't have President Obama to kick around anymore, so they are much quieter); travelers dropping in to buy coffee and make use of the restrooms; divorced fathers with their kids, trying to create quality time; beleaguered mothers with packs of young children, looking for a break.  You get the idea.

As a child, I was taught that everyone I meet is a reflection of Jesus.  Jesus is the middle school teacher and the homeless person on the corner.  Jesus is the meth addict and the atheist.  Yes, Jesus is even Donald Trump, although I have a real problem with that one.  The Jesus in Trump is buried pretty deeply somewhere under all that orange hair.

That's my vision of Jesus.  Human.  Embracing all the flaws of humankind.

Even Saint Marty has a little Jesus in him.  Hard to believe, right?


by:  Francisco X. Alarcon
translated by:  Francisco Aragon

I want a god
as my accomplice
who spends nights
in houses
of ill repute
and gets up late
on Saturdays

a god
who whistles
through the streets
and trembles
before the lips
of his lover

a god
who waits in line
at the entrance
of movie houses
and likes to drink
café au lait

a god
who spits
blood from
tuberculosis and
doesn’t even have
enough for bus fare

a god
by the billy club
of a policeman
at a demonstration

a god
who pisses
out of fear
before the flaring
of torture

a god
who hurts
to the last
bone and
bites the air
in pain

a jobless god
a striking god
a hungry god
a fugitive god
an exiled god
an enraged god

a god
who longs
from jail
for a change
in the order
of things

I want a
more godlike

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