musicman

he'd
bang on loud
drums
saying

things
like
'jesus will be here when we're dead or def'

but would they come true
would there be a sinner in all of us?
he'd cash in on the brown velet sand-skin
mattress under the overpass
he'd ask for crack-handouts
and lite trash at night
he
didn't look like
a
prophet
just
a
homeless
man
with lil
luck
and
a
stench
that
never
attracted
a
bee hive
of
behind
ass

I'm not
sure
prophets
care
about
ass


i sure
the
hell
do...