Stretch
Out front along a stretch of Venice Boulevard, Citizen Same has made their bed at a bus stop bench in Los Angeles. The sleeping bag is curled up like a child outside the high rent world. Each city brags who pays more. Dismissed as homelessness, but they’re missed. Where have you been? Few acknowledge the public spectacle like thine outstretched arms. ’Twas grace that saved a wretch like me. Perpetual love eliminates the space between us. Say it again. Dew collects on tender greens for nourishment throughout every season. “I will publish the name of the Lord and ascribe greatness to our God. The Rock, his work is perfect.” Devo in Deut. The Spirit is the one who recruits. Astute maneuvering among the brutes. At the mention of your name, Jesus, the root of David, some say shoots brah while others receive the early bird special.
I heart media and the visual platform given from the late night rounds: picking up and dropping off people from out of town, downtown, Hollywood. I get around. It’s LIT because I now know the stout heart of the one who points it out. The light shines upon us. Zoom in. Zoom out. Out of a sleeping bag Jesus ascended from the tomb. Check the geo tag. He hung out for a while and then started working on every ones’ bedrooms. The Spirit is the deposit when you check in. As for rent in heaven? He paid it all. The crashing waves on Venice are loud. Costly blood washed our dirt away. Blood like dirt. Made from the elements of earth. Our living hope is more articulate than dope. Leave the crowd in line for the line-up. Have a one on one now. Soaped up souls. Many are undercover at this hour. Zoom in at the car wash. Unknowingly had quieted the scene so Citizen Same could sleep: “SH”.
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