Not every wino is a Holy Man.
Oh, but some of them are.
I love those who've learned
to sit comfortably
for long periods with their hams
pressed against their calves,
outdoors,
with a wall for a back-rest,
contentedly saying nothing.
These move about only when
necessary,
on foot, and almost always
in pairs.
I think of them as oblates.
Christ's blood is in their veins
or they thirst for it.
They have looked into the eyes
of God,
unprotected by smoked glass.

Added: Dec 6 2005 | Viewed: 986 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Alden Nowlan
Poem: A Certain Kind of Holy Men

Poem of the Day on:
Jun 27 2006
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