JAVANESE PUPPET THEATER
Just yesterday I met a man wanting to stage the
Mahabharata under two sixty watt bulbs on a stage
cut from cardboard on a raft of fire. It all seemed
inconsequential enough to me to be done. Lest
we fail for not trying, I let him run his idea out.
Like some silly basketball team on a college-gym
floor, we tried running out the clock, but found it
was longer and stronger-willed than we'd ever be.
Too bad for all that : right then the world blew open
and my words exploded. I was as insensitive as a dog
with a bone could be. Looking about, I sought refuge.
My path led to your boat. Oh Jesus, God of Kings
and Son of God, don't ever fail me now - both my
hands are on fire and there's a new tongue of flame
above my head. What am I supposed to do about
that? I talk to the converted and they laugh back in
my face. I preach to the unconcerned, and they
say I'm a crazy prophet. Just yesterday, remember,
I met the man - at least he had a mission. Today,
all salvation seems like a long and tedious
bore.
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