my dream about the second coming
"mary is an old woman without shoes
she doesn't believe it.
not when her belly starts to bubble
and leave the print of a finger where
no one touches.
not when the snow in her hair melts away
not when the stranger she used to wait for
appears dressed in lights at her
she is an old woman and
she calls it a fox
but she feeds it."
I found this poem on the side of a store in East Austin. I originally was getting in close to take a picture of a Fe De Rico piece, but found this little gem instead.
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