Marked
Jesus stood among our diseases
and mixed sweet concoctions of word
and wheat and set them before us
to eat without complaint. We all
believed what he said, but what he did
seemed intended to amaze and surprise
only the good among us. “Hurry,”
he would say, “You have so little
time to lose your chains.” He perplexed
the rich, rejected our offers
for easy credit; laughed at tax
disguised as handouts for the poor,
those hidden, stranded on rooftops
in hurricanes of our neglect.
Stealing what tiny craft survived,
he rowed into the rising waters
and found the frightened with brilliant
steady light. We thought him a salesman
in Sears suits passing out coupons
for the circus of perverted saints.
But Peter observed what he knew
was miracle: The morning bells
were ringing, and a liar found
the ground to kneel upon and pray.
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