Homeless God
I. Anaheim, CA - Galilee
Jesus has gotten fat.
He spends too much
time there by the on-ramp
on the overpass where,
evidently, strangers are
prone to be generous
as they wait to get on to the 5.
A McDonald’s is just down the street.
I come this way every day,
but I’ve never see him eating.
I sometimes see a cup
with the golden arches at his feet.
It has to be the McDonald’s.
And the standing around.
With all the time he has,
you’d think he’d come
up with a new sign;
try slightly better lettering.
The message is barely legible—
as if he wanted you to struggle
a bit to read it. As if he wanted
to make you look twice.
And I do.
Bless the poor.