the neon tube sizzles
gas ignites
a flare of pink
in the shape
of a lower case t
beneath the words
jes_s saves
flashes
to entice
the unclean
the sinners
the lost sheep
but it feels
meaningless
without u

filthy street water
enters the hole
in the bottom of my shoe
worn soles
even more worn
soul waving tiredly
in the last kiss of summer
to hang limply
a battered
tattered
sleepy refrain
from the depths
of ground zero
soon
the only thing i could do
was bleat
prepared to accept
my shearing