This guy on the street corner is waving
a Bible in one hand while doing his best
to scream the Lord’s word over the blare
of city traffic, constriction sites,
and the loud conversations of passersby.
I’m in the vicinity, waiting for my ride,
and listen to him for a while but
I get to the point where I weary of
being called a sinner, and doomed to
Hell if I don’t repent, so my mind drifts.
In fact, my mind is a kind of street preacher,
but without the Bible, and with all the necessary
screaming done internally, and able to carry on
despite the surrounding noise, and its audience
is not whoever happens to be hanging out nearby
but the people in my life who have crossed me
or disappointed me or disabused me or betrayed me,
up to and including myself. In fact, many of my
internal sermons begin with the line, “You’ve really
done it this time.” I repent just as my ride arrives.
It’s for the office, not Hell.
