What the Leper Saw

A Poem: Christ as the Beggar

Christ as the Beggar (Rome, 2025)

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. . . he afflicted Job with a malignant ulcer from the soles of his feet to the top of his head. Job took a shard of broken pottery to scrape himself with while he was sitting among the ashes.

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What the Leper Saw

Spare a crown, master, for me.
I who was humbled by fortune
am now disfigured with leprosy.

Verily do I swear thee, no sin
of mine hath wrecked my cause
but some trick of water and air.

Perhaps the wizards of Malta
would offer me hope of a cure.
Until that day, charity is my all.

Take from me this carnation
to wear in thy handsome lapel;
you’ll dazzle salons like a flame.

May the sores within my bone
shine like the blood-red moon
on the virtues of your manhood

that you may go before me
like the silhouette of a rider
thundering over black hills.

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