You can’t say “Lazarus” without
a little lisp.
Is this why Jesus weeps?
The inescapable “facs”
bring a blush to my cheeks,
and cause color to rise,
creeping like the red creeps through
the veins of a leaf.
There really should be a disclaimer
or a trigger warning: liturgical latin
Repeated facs. You will be fac-ed over.
The stuffy room feels/is/like one big
corporate, communal, carpeted coffin.
Running into old faces who have gotten older.
“These are not called sunflowers because they’re heliotropes”
Splitting horticultural hairs,
if you ask me.
But no one does.
But they ask a lot about God.
How can the angels hold their breath,
while awaiting Mary’s yes?
How can God not know
the his proposal will be met
How does the nervous boy,
sweating through his shirt,
wiping his greasy hands,
know with certainty
his lady will nod her head