Picnic on Calvary

I watch him hobble down
the path, right through
the crowd gathered in the park.
He reminds me of Jesus
on his way to crucifixion.

Barefoot & shirtless, his unkempt,
matted brown hair hangs down
to his shoulders & his wide-eyed,
blank stare planted on
his scraggly bearded face, gazes
into the infinite.

Onlookers give wide berth
& gawk from a distance.

With one hand he holds the untied
lace belt of his loose-fitted
pajama bottoms & an old plastic
soda bottle filled with water
is tucked under his arm.

In his other hand he grasps
a gutted pigeon. 

He finds a vacant bench
to lounge on & begins his feast
as if he is having squab for dinner.
I point him out to a passing
police officer who replies,

“What do you want me to do?
He isn’t hurting anybody and besides
I’m off duty in twenty minutes.”