Into the Jesusverse / Taco Tuesday on an Easter Sunday

by Scion Wellington

New Jesus died at Taco Bell today
and I pray he ate first.
Last week it was suicide in custody.
The week before?
A trick tail light.
Today, they named New Jesus
Willie Bo and found him napping
in a silver Mercedes
in a Taco Bell drive thru
because heaven is full of pescatarians.

Getting crucified was hard work
so New Jesus was resting his
all seeing eyes on his lunch break.

He had wooly hair so they saw a thug
in sheep’s clothing.
Copper skin so they knew he sounded like loose change
‘cause he looked like fresh pennies.
Inside the car was dark
so it looked like he was performing miracles in his sleep.
Turning water into Taylor Port.
Trying to feed a village with two quesadillas.

They said that New Jesus had a gun on his lap.
If he did,
well, he remembered what happened last time.
If he didn’t
well, he remembered what happened last time.

He rose
on the third tap of the glass and 
showed them his hands
with the holes in them already.
He knew they were praying
for a sudden movement.

They unloaded satin bullets and
pillowcases through the windows
putting New Jesus back to sleep and
I heard they left the car smelling like a $5 box.

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