I want to meet all the Jesuses
this world has yet fashioned
I want passion
I want inspiration
will Jesus reveal revelation?
Will the motherfucker give me my CD’s back?
Satan’s temptation
tempts not so much
as salvation.
Desire, or fear?
What do you hold dear?
If I eat your prize
will it make you wise?
or will you search for closure
and your life be over?
People would rather gather
than be alone
people want a group
who make them feel at home.

Some people
like power
some people
pick pretty flowers
some people
will stick a needle in their eye
to shoot themselves up with grandeur.
Some people
pander
some people
have integrity
some people
sail the sea
some people
smell azaleas
some people
are you
some people
are me
some people
are other people
of no concern to us.

Some people
concern us
some people
discern us
some people
Burn books
some people
give dirty looks
some people
have been forsook.

Some people
think they are Jesus
some people
are Charles Manson
some people
are Jesus
some people
are Marylin Manson.

And those other unconcerned motherfuckers are Hanson
and content to be.

Who am me?
Gilda called me Jesus
Tommaso called me God
I met Jesus a number of times
once he freeloaded at my summer camp
with my lodge 57 platypi
before that, he called himself Christian,
but Sabe Kovacs called him for Christ.
he used to sing songs about diarrhea
and jump atop the loft,
flashlighting his face, yelled:
"the power of Christ compels you!"
He dressed like a ninja.
He lived in Brooklyn.
Then at the West Indian parade of 2001
on Washington Street,
in Brooklyn,
I met another Jesus.
He was a dreadlocked hobo.
He was the happiest man I ever met.
He was incomparably enlightening
and, in the greatest sense,
free.
He was contagious.
He was Jesus,
I am sure.
Me, Zool and him sat and talked for a while.
I never saw him again
but I search for Jesuses
all across the world.
Forrest Gump, you needn’t find Jesus,
eat your chocolates and you’ll do fine,
but I
am bound to poetry
addicted to creation
and I must find inspiration.
I yearn that Jesus come to me.
Jesus the hobo
told me I had sincere eyes.
So I have also been told,
that my eyes
are akin
to the eyes of Charles Manson.
Sincerity
yet a great intensity
loving
but crazed
and I wonder,
will I bring a love revolution?
Or will I spur a cult of convolution?
if people love me,
will they kill for me?
I do not want to kill anybody.
I intensely feel our society needs peace.