by Jeff Schiff
For those hawking cacahuates
boiled in vinegar
and doled from galvanized pails
For the bearers of portable whetstones
dragging quivers
of newly honed picks and scythes
For those delivering propane
For those charged with civil warning
For the cobbler
and the nearly destitute glazier
burro-backed
dispensing putty and points
his sour lunch and entreaties
door-to-door
For godly reminders
a resounding deliverance
on the quarter hour
templo igelsia catedral
For garbage hoisted into trucks
and men rising by the bag
from their putrid reward
For those who wish to join
the cortege and those
who keep humping
just out in front of it