There is a man of God in the hills
Of Tennessee who says our Lord
Is coming. Today. He scans the skies
For signs. He builds his kingdom brick by brick.
People say they look for Jesus
To return but don’t mean it. This man
Does. “Holy, holy. His house has done
Arrived. He ain’t gonna be far behind.”
There is the throne of the Lord,
Built from old Coke bottles. There is
The chamber for the saints, made
From egg cartons. There are the
Words of the prophet, scribbled
Like graffiti on walls fashioned from
Plywood rescued from a dump.
You can’t and won’t miss the words
BEHOLD A PALE HORSE, since he
Underlines this citation with red chalk
He found in the garbage can of a bible
School which closed last year.
He tells the reporter who comes
To do the condescending story,
“Jesus started to speak with me,
In private messages, in 1982.
Before the Lord showed me his spirit,
I was that guy in the neighborhood
You kept your kids well clear of. I wrote letters
To presidents, popes, and professors.
You laugh: someday no one will be laughing.
People mock what they don’t get.
Our Lord was laughed at by killers,
Thieves, and low-lifes. As soon as
I can pay back the government folks
At the hydro office, I will turn the lights
On here at night so, for miles around,
People can see my signs, can know
The end isn’t coming, it’s here.
I’ll do em up good, when I’m done,
They’ll be lights that can never go out.
Won’t matter if I’m here or not.”