Tucked beneath an overpass,
a makeshift lounge gathering
of apophatic theologians
kneels at a crack pipe altar
to smoke twisted prayers of escape.
Never knowing how long it will take
to reach rock bottom, blistered eyes
calculate the stretch in torn pockets
by the flesh crawl on the clock
to determine when to pass the dust.
Sitting in a red light meditation,
tongue primed to litter with condemnation,
I feel my conscience speak, “Although your
list of errors didn’t lead to this communion
you need to own your reflection in a broken mirror.”
The same sun shines on both sides of the sidewalk
casting shadows on two routes of escape.
A horn blast tries to crowd the line
between hope and hopeless….
All eyes watch for the color green.
©Susie Clevenger 2016
Karin Gustafson prompted us to pick a poem written by another poet. Ingest it a little. And then write something of your own. I went searching and found a poet and a poem totally new to me. I chose Coffee & Dolls by April Bernard.