carriages

there were two men pushing strollers down e street in the hot of late morning. their rusted carriages were filled with bottles and rags, dirty clothes and other remnants of a former life. they were believers in the church of methamphetamine. hallelujah the first man cried as they stepped in front of traffic. praises and so forth as the second stroked his crusted beards. through a red light the wayfarers kept on with their pilgrimage.

have mercy