The charity people –

November days at the Christmas soup kitchen
Vagabond meals of vegetarian soup, that liquidated water, almost vapour
Unclean souls wash their teeth with it, added flavour from parishioner’s anguish, any floating protein solids saved for the sake of all the between their soup ladle days
There are on-site chains carrying a hovering Jesus from old neck starting blocks, swinging over, passing by industrial-sized stainless steel, and never one discarded, found wanting
Some of the rambling derelicts debated – why he’d leave them in this state, why he left soon after his Declaration of Religious Independence
Some of them can’t read or write any more.

Advertisements
This entry was posted in poetry & prose and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s