Sano crucified home in bed.
He didn’t feel like going out,
He had just come in.
“Come in Sano, come in.” “…” “…”
Sano didn’t wake up crucified,
He went to bed crucified.
Some time every day
Sano was waylaid,
Waylaid and nailed to his own private cross
Which said, “SANO,”
Carved in Urban Grafitti Style
Above his head.
Sano is scarred and not so fragile
After being crucified every day.
I love Sano.
I love an audience.
But, I always thought a crucifixion
Should be a private thing.
Don’t gossip about Sano crucified,
My own methods for hanging from a cross,
Or how people enjoy spectacles…
Public or otherwise.
From, “The Slums,” August 5, 1982
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