Did! declares a roadside billboard.
Sobering thought. The collapsing,
One-room, brick-walled Fitness Center!
Among the boarded-up storefronts
And Stan’s still-open mercantile
A few miles north of the boyhood
Home of Butch Cassidy himself!
Kept in good trim to draw tourists,
Is something we could talk about,
But God talked back to Jesus
Like time talks back to everyone—
In the garden before arrest
And during the execution,
God never answered Jesus much.
After all, how much could God have
Said in reply to God’s own self?
Still, those were clearly pleas for help.
If you peer inside the window
On a bright Sunday afternoon,
All you’ll see is lathe and plaster
And a back wall with a mirror
Meant to motivate your fitness,
Where you can glimpse you in the gloom.
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