son of god

Instead of killing myself today, I went to see God.
He laughed his friendly laugh, in that German accent he likes to affect,
and kissed my cheek.
I sang to stained glass windows while you all worshipped flowers,
and beans,
and exorcisms.
My lips were freshly scrubbed clean,
(stained Shiraz)
and they beckoned God until He came and sat upon them with delight.
He told me that you were Jesus,
I stared and stared at Him
until it was true.
“Remember me!” Jesus said, wine on his lips,
to his gathered prostitutes and homeless crackheads,
“eat my body and drink my blood with every meal,
make me immortal,
I am resurrection!”
And we do, because his disciples, or his Lost Boys, or his fanatics
wrote it down.
You really should read
the New Testament,
mi amor,
you were there,
after all.