Jesus died this morning
in a nameless alleyway
hunched between an
ex-jailbird and a homeless girl.
I saw him last night
tickling the feet of fa’afafine
with his bearded kisses.
I heard him last night
laughing with hardened Magdalenas
over plastic cups of street brew.
I felt him last night
lick sanction across the punctured
creases of my inner elbows.
You missed him –
the Second Coming has come and gone.
You were too preoccupied
scouring penthouse suites in trump hotels
singing psalms to molesting podiums
tasting bleach from make-it-rain teeth
and stroking feathers of corrupt wings.
Did you not learn from his first visitation
that he would come as One
of the wandering and uncrowned?
Did you not learn from his first stopover
that Sinner and Saviour
walk shoeless side by side
along bleeding crossroads?
Jesus died this morning
in a nameless alleyway
beneath your feet
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