You’d get the impression Jesus shaved, wore a tie.
Hid cocaine in the pantry.*
Nervous delivering on the mount.
The poor hard worker?
“Fox 17 & Walgreens!”
They feel sick themselves; I know; I was there.
I did that. Shit.
Sorry enough now to fight my bigot.
You’d get the impression you were in danger,
When Jesus were to stand near.
Nervous he didn’t know himself too well.
*Flat under a satin blue paint can, way back under that already low shelf.