JESUS AND THE METAL FLAKED GOLDEN IMPALA

Jesus saves

The battered wreck

He inherited from his father.

 

He thinks

Of how it would be

To ride across

The border

In style.

 

He thinks

Of those

He could bring back

To the Promised Land.

 

Oh the sacrifice,

To take out the dents,

To find the right parts.

 

He bleeds.

He tucks.

He rolls.

 

LITTLE WAVE

Little wave

Come to me

That I may lie

Within your curl

That I may ride

As you hurdle

To the shore

 

And as you crash

And break and splash

I will be there

As the feathers

Of your foam

Surrounds me

In a home

Of light and air and water

More dear

Than all the architecture

Of our fathers

 

BUFFALO NICKEL

I got a buffalo nickel

In my change today.

A buffalo nickel

With the proud profile

Of a way that once was,

Minted by those who knew

What bread and work

Were worth,

As they poised to fight

Fear itself.

Now,

Fear is the intimate of intimidation.

Fear is the neighbor of nightmares.

Fear is the tyrant of trust.

All face Fear.

Some fear the fateful bullet.

Some fear the unfaithful kiss.

Fear is the parent of paranoia,

The father of fascism,

The mother of misery.

All face fear.

Some fear the inevitable.

Some fear the impossible.

Fear is the husband of horror,

The wife of wickedness,

The lover of lies.

All face fear.

Some fear danger.

Some fear dullness.

Fear is a wooden nickel.