Blessings from Essex

I’ve seen a Krauser’s food store patron saint

with a 99 cent tea, flavored Skoal and black spray paint

arrested for his vagrancy

by the Irish aristocracy

of Northern New Jersey cops;

I’ve listened to the teachings

of Passaic River prophets,

I know that there is beauty here

Though it’s crumbled and it’s toxic

I’ve sought out the Oracle of Verona Park,

on his bench with pipe and dog

I’ve seen him sitting in the dark

while the pond was curled with fog

I’m just another suburban pilgrim

living the American struggle

a part of 316 million

in the North-Eastern hustle-bustle

A hoodie wearing tattooed degenerate

who loiters in parking lots,

asking to bum a cigarette

or maybe just a little pot

And when I see those out-of-state dreamers

New England plates on their bimmers

Doc Martins instead of sneakers

and their perfect J Crew sweaters

I’ll clench my hand into a fist

And just like Judas,

I’ll give their face a kiss