Humanity Cannot Live by Bread Alone…. …Can She?

 

Something happened to me today

Hope told me her water had been shut off.

Her church gave her money for high-octane gasoline so she could job-hunt

And the congregants left a basket of fruit and wine on her doorstep.

Gifts for the newly- born homeless miracle.

Since the water had been shut off, no one washed her feet.

 

As we spoke, sub-human computers were preparing to steal Hope’s electricity and gas. –  and in a fraction of a moment  –  the telephone. We talked fast. 

 

Hope told me she can survive the streets.

This time she will be in charge of which barrels to sleep behind;

Which leftovers to dig from garbage dumps.

Who can and cannot caress her skin.

No cameras.

No needles.

No dog collars.

It would be easier this time.

Hope has more confidence in her deliverance than I do.

 

Hope wandered empty streets leading nowhere.

She prayed.

For What or for Whom she did not know.

She bought and ate and stole and threw up and overate and threw up and ate and stole

Numbing the sting of the dog collar.

 

That night the Creator appeared unto her.

The Creator took her into her arms and assured Hope she would never be alone again –

– That all Hope had to do was ask, and She would deliver sustenance.

She promised life and glory.

The Creator gave Hope food to eat

And washed her feet.

 

Some complain of too much food and use it for suicide.

Others have not a morsel.

Do not blame the compulsive overeater or bulemorexic

Gently touch the homeless toddler living behind glazed eyes.

Feed her Love and Compassion and Strength and Bread.

Give her grape juice to drink.

Wash her feet.

 

Do not paint children’s arms black and blue;

Do not grate their fresh skin dragging them by your dog’s collar;

Do not feed them trash

Or not at all.

 

If you do not all these things, I say unto you:

There will be enough bread to satisfy every Follower

Children behind and beyond open eyes will be nourished and satisfied.

The needs to eat and throw up and steal and starve will disappear.

The pervasive Hell named Eating Disorder will burn to ashes in its own fire

Never again to arise in its cruel costume of contentment.

 

Something happened to me today

Hope told me her water had been shut off.

Her church had given her money for high-octane gasoline so she could job-hunt

And the congregants had left a basket of fruit and wine on her doorstep.

Gifts for the newly- born homeless miracle.

Since the water had been shut off, no one washed her feet.

 

 

*Based on a conversation with someone I met only once

“Hope” is a fictional name to protect her anonymity

It can also be read as “Faith”