We are the nameless or named nobodies
the ashamed homeless
the same, yet anonymous
if anonymous is synonymous
then nameless may be shameless
by grace we save face
Thank you Hieronymus
your cosmogram is our telegram
Bosch or botched
wipeout blotches
oil and water may mix, Leonardo
but they don't last long
they say “these colors don't run”
they may not run but they fade
white remains
a simple palette
mixed up like fruit salad
purity preserves
soft, not severe
colors slide and mix
Our flag of nationalism
is a simple syllogism
a fugitive is made, or getting faded
the burdened and nameless, just like me
no slaps on the wrist please
three strikes, makes faith seem made
but we're steady and stand
Savior at our back
A different flag flies true
nothing new, always too few
who read, or see the need of the needy
they who are swollen and greedy
they may see the light
It's not dark for me at night
so long terrors, T’s the season
and I have my reasons
I found Jesus once again
he was behind the couch all along
with the lint and a crumpled old song
Kathleen Kelley
November 6, 2012
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