Huddled
in their rumble jackets,
burly,
growly haired,
they waylaid me
at the foot
of the jetty
proselytizing Jesus;
one thrust a pamphlet
in my face
& I waved it away
saying, not interested
& he said
in a thick Russian accent,
why you not interested
& the others milled around;
I dug my hands
into my pockets
& strode up the jetty
wondering what Jesus would make of
these ruffians of the Lord
John Malone 