To the Contemporary Bunkshooters
Excerpts from a poem by Carl Sandburg
“You come along…tearing your shirt…yelling about Jesus.
Where do you get that stuff?
What do you know about Jesus?
Jesus had a way of talking soft and outside of a few
bankers and higher ups among the con men of Jeru-
salem everybody liked to have this Jesus around
because he never gave any fake passes and every-
thing he said went and he helped the sick and gave
the people hope.
You come along squirting words at us, shaking your fist
and calling us all damn fools so fierce the froth slob-
bers over your lips…always blabbing we’re all
going to hell straight off and you know all about it.
I’ve read Jesus’ words. I know what he said. You don’t
throw any scare into me. I’ve got your number. I
know how much you know about Jesus.”
“…You tell poor people living in shanties Jesus is going to fix it up
all right with them by giving them mansions in the
skies after they’re dead and the worms have eaten
‘em.
You tell $6 a week department store girls all they need is
Jesus…”
“…You tell poor people they don’t need any more money on
pay day…”
“…all they gotta do is take Jesus the way you say.”
“I’m telling you Jesus wouldn’t stand for the stuff you’re
handing out. Jesus played it different. The bankers
and lawyers of Jerusalem got their sluggers and murderers
to go after Jesus just because Jesus wouldn’t play their game.
He didn’t sit in with the big thieves…”
“…I won’t take my religion from any man who never works
except with his mouth and never cherishes any memory
except the face of the woman on the American silver dollar.
I ask you to come out and show me where you’re
pouring out the blood of your life…”