674. LION OF JUDAH

LION OF JUDAH
I'd always wondered why that African guy
refused to settle - always holding out for
Deliverance and his Messianic rage. They
leveled acres, cut of hands and arms, raped
women and pillaged villages - all in the name
of some unsettled God whose cauldron somehow
even in this modern day was still bubbling with
a boiling fury. Never understood by Mankind
anyway, it left instead upon our doorsteps
ten-thousands of street-side merchants selling
scarves and watches and doilies and hats. This
itinerant babble gathers - along the 20th Street lofts
gathering their goods and jewelry and watches. Suitcases
filled with stuff to sell, wrapped in blankets and sheets,
tables on wheels, banter and chatter balanced with
an ancient form of African silence. Deemed to think
to themselves, 'we are what you have never been', they
nonetheless step right in and take our commerce and
contraband together, making the change and the
small-talk of a livid curbside conversations. Handbags.
Watches. Woolens. Glasses. He will come again!
He is coming once more, to take us back!
That Lion of Judah, fear not, will roar!