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Judgment Tarrieth For who will hearken unto you in this matter? but as his part is that goeth down to the battle, so shall his part be that tarrieth by the stuff: they shall part alike. 1 Sam. 30:24 he believed in the prosperity gospel, had a fat wallet from turning water into wine. the sun didn’t shine but he drave, and the moon lit his electric cigarette from a million miles away. i believe in the Word as written, thou shalt not, thou canst not, thou wilt not, my wallet as thin as a bookmark, my wine tasting like water (it is water) and the clouds on my mind. he’s rich, i’m alive. it’s the waiting that’s hell for me, it’s the dying that’s hell for him. so I wait. i see him everyday on the train, my battered kjv snarls at him and always falls open at psalm 73, or psalm 92, and I relive pre-christian sentiment, a bitter prophet. sunday. another i’m alone, another he’s hallelujah ridin’ high. monday. there he is on the platform. another morning, another coffee, another unfiltered Camel goes thru the needle of my eye, waiting to die. Christ keeps me alive. Christ golds his plate. we both wait. |
This Poem was Critiqued By: Joe Gustin On Date: 2013-09-27 14:06:21
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
A very unqiue poem. I can not profess to understand who the rich one is. My fav line is My wallet is a thin as a bookmark.