What’s up crackers. Hey white boss.

A giant of a black man enters the subway at 14th Street, and with his deep bariton voice shouts out his gospels. His cap sticks out under his woolen hat, that barely reveals his yellowish, angry eyes.
“… and Jesus. His white boss. I kneel down. You too will feel his wreath. The white boss and his Jesus. Luego, the white man,” he sneers toward two Hispanic Indian women, rolling their strollers back and forth.
“Luego, Jesus. The white boss.”
Then he sings a line, jumping from the preacher’s tone, to a little bit of soul.
“A little bit of loving, girl, that’s all I need.”
He pauses a moment, while people lean back and breath in salvation. With his tremendous weight and height, his angry, deep voice, the man makes a powerful and intimidating impression. I wonder how many people in a car full of commuters, will combine their force of numbers to restrain him if he snaps at a random or determined person. The transcendental response is avoid becoming the target of his frustration, people bending their heads, hide in their open pages, stare in directions void of the obvious.
He holds a dark wooden walking stick aside his right, stretched out leg, pulling up his blue sweatpants. My eyes cross his, but a reaction to our acknowledgement remains absent.
“The white man. Any more favors you need? You want me to do you any more favors?” he shouts in an undetermined direction, meaning it’s meant for any one most likely. But no one stands for this giant of a man, he’s too big, big enough to stand alone.
“I pray for the white man and his Jesus. White boss.”
At 42nd street a new flock of people stream into the train. The door’s closing alarm beeps and the echo dies softly.
“And the bible says that Jesus gave his life to save you,” a new deep, African voice proclaims pressed against the next doors, in a Nigerian accent.
“Lord now, every morning you can hear. White man. The willows weep. Yeah, white girl. For my girl has left me.”
“Praying is just talking to the Lord. If you want to be saved, talk to Jesus.”
“You hear me. White girl.”
“If you pray and receive Jesus.”
“For the white man and his Jesus.”
“For this is God’s word, the truth, and He does not lie.”
Neither hear eachother. They reach out, they proclaim and hollow. But the sheep and the shephard do not find each other.

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