The Emotional Orphan

The Preacher Rode A Greyhound.
I am pretty sure Jesus would have too.
It’s, how the Preacher could do it.
The audience was captive, led to imply they cared
about what he was saying, teaching, spoon-feeding,
or shoving down their throats.
They must at least feign sleep to escape his words,
Even so, they must hear, contemplate and decide
about their response or lack thereof.
Even if not today.
The rules about playing your
iPod too loudly demanded it.
They needed the message most.
In his eyes,  if not their own.
The meaning of need is as yet undefined.
Some would accept the Grace offered today or at some other time.
The seeds had been planted too deep.
Friends with the lepers, the dealers, criminals, and whores,
the Preacher knew porn stars, and bookies.
Had his own table at “SCORES”
Why do you suppose he loved them,
the malingerers and miscreants,
those who ate their meals from places where it reeks?
They needed him and the Hope he could offer.
They even sometimes wanted the Grace.
To the Preacher
they opened new doorways.
He helped them to believe there was something different
than the life they led,
under a constant state of war.