10 June 2020
There was that time
St. Francis used a suspect $20 to buy seed at the corner store. The
guy behind the register called the cops, who arrived under cover of sirens. They blocked his exit, pulled out their handcuffs,
fingered their batons. But they noted that St. Francis was a
white saint, his skin tan from all of his do-goodery
in the city parks. He drove a beat-up Fiat, but the inspection
sticker was current. Someone had seen him cross the street, but he
stayed inside the cross walk. His old ghetto blaster pumped out
Gregorian chants, but not too loudly. Children loved them; a couple
danced off to the side in the shade. The cops warned him about
forgers, gave him his birdseed, and let him wander off to talk to
pigeons and sparrows.
3 comments:
Yes. And yes. And also, yes.
fascinating. And he stays within the lines of the crosswalk! (cross-walk)
I had started with "We want our martyrs to be saints" and then veered off.
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