| Kissing Jesus
for S. I missed church again this Sunday But at one o’clock that morning, In the pub on main street, I was kissing Jesus! Well, he looked like Jesus anyway... Aren’t all men sons of God? His heavenly golden hair fell From his head down to his shoulders in these waves Just like the pictures of Jesus In papers handed out in Sunday School Along with the admonishment that God is never absent Even in the hells of my own making Like the hell across the street where Earlier that night I’d walked the coals barefoot, Without the proper concentration Yes, I got burned When I saw my ex, let’s call him Satan, The one who bought my soul At a discount With counterfeit currency Only to throw it away because He found my soul worthless as half a pair of shoes So I searched for answers I found God in the bottom of my glass And he sent me Jesus! The heavenly choir sang So there I was I was kissing Jesus, and he wasn’t Kissing Christian But he was just a babe Of twenty years, still scrawny, still innocent, And the designated driver there to redeem His more hedonistic friends He offered me a way of escape from my temptations Like Judas, I greeted him with a kiss Then explained Agnosticism with an object lesson: I kissed Jesus!—long and hard— But I turned and walked away |