In spite of
His reckless
and eccentric
reputation.
In spite of all the rumors
spinning out
in a wake behind Him
as he proceeds.
With no regard for
how He steps upon
smaller beings or
fragile footing.
With a wink
at His handiwork
and a smile for
His damages.
Whistling
His songs,
reading His books,
watching His shows.
Everybody knows
His name. No one knows
what He does
behind the screen it provides.
Or everyone knows.
Or enough know and
they keep it to themselves
because He is good
to them. Good for them.
Good enough
that His walk
is its own excuse.
His work
is justification
enough. After all
this is how
all of this was built.
Built by Him.
Built for hunting.
Built to drain away any blood.
