Prophets in the ’Hood

Jesus in the tavern again with Abraxas,
“Just hold my hand and see.”
The innkeeper asks them both to leave.
They stumble down Main Road,
two drunk skollies on the jorl.
Mohammed on the corner
is begging for small change.
’Braxie and Jesus get stuck in,
give him a beating, steal his fez.
Run off into the night, cheering.

Moses stops his Merc,
asks the two of them if they’d like to buy a light.
Abraxas pulls out his Glock, says,
“Give me the car keys.”

Jesus behind the steering wheel,
doing twice the legal speed of light.
Traffic cop stops them,
asks to see a driver’s license.

Jesus shows his stigmata,
’Braxie searches through the dashboard
cupboard but there’s only a crown of thorns.
Traffic cop wants to see proof of identity,
threatens to pull the both of them in
for impersonating a prophet.
Then from inside the bonnet,
a muffled thumping.
Traffic cop grabs the keys from Jesus,
opens the bonnet. Ohmigod.

It’s Baudrillard,
screaming about the floating signifier
and didn’t any of them know
the author was dead.

And buried.