the prophet

I met a prophet
his long hair stringy and matted
eyes full of conviction
he told me he rode but bore no colors
jesus came to him in a vision
but he could only see his sandals
I met a prophet
he told me his prophecy would be fufilled
the virgin of guadalupe told him so
out back in the shed at a hells angels bar-b-que
he said she was coverd in roses
I met a prophet
I asked him what this prophecy was
he replied
I don't know yet
crossed himself in a very catholic way
fired up his pan head
and rode in the glare of the sun
damn I thought to myself
as I trailed my hand through the cool water
of the mountain stream
why can't I have a vision