Soured & Vomited

Jesus retreats into the desert

Away

Away

Away from you

Cradling his words in one hand and clutching a gun with the other

Your forked tongue spewing forth out of context venom and proclaiming “Wrath! Wrath!”

While your white patron saints and caesars line their policy making pockets with your self-edification 

Jesus softly weeps and whispers, “Grace. Grace.” 

His cross a vanity and his empty tomb full of your faithless works and misplaced hopes

Good news becoming soured and vomited 

As you wipe your chins with your flags