on a bright spring sunday,
a man in a mint ice cream
colored suit stood on the lawn
beside the cracked asphalt
basketball half court.
eight people in t-shirts, jeans
and running shoes lined up
against the cyclone fence
listened to him speak and
watched his hands entreat
the clouds to pay attention.
the lamb knows what
the wolf don't. what the wolf
can't ever see. only love
can save you. without love
you have no more chance
of salvation, than tuna
escaping from the can.
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