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Jesus Rolls a Blunt

Kenneth Carroll

It’s always too something outside. Come in. Pass a joke.

Apartment think itself cathedral. Stain glass lids close and

let the speaker light up. Room loud. Head rock and stretch

lips black. Burning bush. In the smoke, mist a missionary.

Too holy in here, crack a window. Communion eyes. Confess

sins to hollow street. Forgive me. Holy Spirit spin the block.

Can’t go nowhere but up. Upon this rock I ash. Make me whole

with a fourth. New neighbors ask us turn down and pillar of salty.

Homie called this city Jericho. We fashion instruments of earth

blow and pray this city fall. There was only a roach left

but it lasted 8 days. We thought we were out, but a ram

was caught in the cabinet. Sunday thought we dead but came

together and huddled about a fire. 12 pulled up to the hood

looking for a body and found an empty tomb. Amen.

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