On the Sixth Day

If Christ moves to town,
do I expect a call?
Yes, but I’ll let it ring.
Nothing to wear; besides,
me and church folk don’t mix.

But why come to town?
One lonely visit, long ago,
more than enough
to change the world,
a legacy still unfolding.

Christ, a man’s man,
Even Marlboro man
bends a knee.
God makes Christ
His sacred sign,
an eternal monument
for all mankind,
searing into our brains–
W.W.J.D.

Christ is like the pole
in a circus tent
keeping the crazies from
smothering us.
He’s the ringmaster
pointing out the exits.

God speaks through -
Christ
For two millennia,
we pondered his demise;
A second visit,
now that’s just screwing with us!

Christ defines
what’s sacred,
true and right.
Living with Him,
it’s like a bitter taste,
you learn to like.

For me, the old Christ
is the way.
Christ is that
Cosmic syren;
He joins God,
pleading for us to–
Come Back To Me.