Through the dusty metallic
Window blinds and the glowing
Neon lights gazing at the
Dark streets below
I could see they had fallen
Through the birth canal
Of the human soul
Sloshing in the pan
Swirling, rinsed,
Washed in oil
Anointed ready
For the sacrifice.

Unwrapped
From plastic
Packaging like
A disposable Jesus;
The fallen angel
On the street corner,
The beggar at the
Coffee stand, the
Kebab vendor parked
At a petrol station
Dispensing slabs
Of hot meat to
The alienated
And the
Dispossessed
Or the steelworker
With the gnarled
Tired hands that
Have carried the years
Travelling home on the
Late night train.

I leaned my head against
The stained wallpaper
Sucking it all in,
Every act and every scene
Being played out in the city,
Counting my jagged scars
And my jagged days as the
The muffled jazz notes
Floated from the record
Player soothing my tired
Heart and soul with thick
Honeyed mellifluous music.

I was thankful
For their blessings,
Thankful for their sacrifices,
Thankful for another day,
Saved by my
Disposable
Jesus.

*******************************

With a digital drawing from Nikos Laios

********************************

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