A Prayer for Chico

I had just gotten

Out of class.

It was dark out,

Raining.

I walked

Across campus

To get my bike,

Unlocked it

And rode away.

As I

Approached

A stoplight,

Out of the corner

Of my eye,

I saw a young man wearing

A black and white hoodie

With a matching hat,

Chasing after me, yelling.

I stopped at the light.

He kept coming

And yelling.

“What?” I said,

“I can’t hear you.”

He stopped

At the edge

Of the sidewalk

And said,

“You suck

the shit

out of

my ass!”

“Why are you saying that?” I asked.

“Because I’m pretty sure you do,” he replied.

I looked right at him and said, “God bless you.”

He was paralyzed.

Speechless.

His mouth

Quivered in dismay

As he stared at me

In disbelief.

I raised my hand

As if to bless him,

Gave him a low wave

And rode away.

The funny thing was,

I actually meant it.

I think he thought

I was homeless.

My long beard,

Cheap bike

And secondhand

Backpack,

Along with my

Dirty work-gloves

To keep my hands warm,

And wet clothes,

Must have painted

The perfect picture

Of a local transient.

A picture worthy of

Incurring verbal abuse;

Of which emerged

A genuine act of

Spontaneous

Christianity.

Which

Shocked

Us both.