Walking Psalm for Advent

He walks through walls
 walks through Uganda
He walks through Juan
he walks through, opening doors of tragic, breathless spaces

learning there may be scars where the magic
takes place

He walks through the veteran
 undone again
by her favorite plot and mulligan

The spousal abused

 , being confused,

keeps running back with open arms
to those fists who rebuked and refused

But, he walks through

with hands with holes where the palms should be

skin closing in on again and ripped out

by brokenness

Lonely man
Lonely Man, pietrozuco via flickr.

Lonely

man’s got a million, you’ve

got a thousand, I’m

lucky if i could hold on to a hundred for more than a week

But then Rafta
he makes eight dollars a week, hardly any more
and owes nine to the company for room and board

Jesus,

he walks through the empire of America

knowing full well the cost of Liberia

hearing the justifications of every reporter, politician, broker and philosopher

and
the names and the scars and the hairs of every bloodied head in Kandahar

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