Devil by the Side of the Road
Where store-bought billboards are not allowed,
someone’s handmade sign to sinners stands
beside Interstate 65 just north of Prattville.
A red, wooden devil with pointed tail
guards over the angry words of its maker:
GO TO CHURCH or the DEVIL will Get You!
An endless stream of tired Sunday truckers
haul their rigs past the Devil and his scythe;
weary tourists returning home from Florida
ponder its homemade providence;
Saturday night lovers on their way back to Birmingham
wonder of this roadside warning,
question the one who reached into last night's dream
and cursed them with his demonic omen,
with this searing sentence of impending doom.
I Know Where Jesus Lives
If anyone’s looking for Jesus,
tell them I know where he lives.
He lives across the street.
His name is on the roof
in bright lights like a marquee.
He went out in the middle of the night
last Christmas and nailed it up,
then left it there for all to see,
a single strand of white lights
spelling out where “Jesus Lives.”
People come from all over to see it.
They stop their cars and stare.
I’ve heard them talking to it.
They shake their heads and say,