Idiolexicon: 10/27/2006

Vanessa J. Gorden

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


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