Killing Jesus

The Feast of the Tabernacle
is eight days long

Jesus has traveled
to Jerusalem

He lets the morning come
in his favorite half light
He speaks in Parables
and the die is cast

Is this the man they are trying to kill
ask the crowd

Is this the Christ?

Yes.

And the Church responds.
A prophet does not come.

From Galilee.

I am going away.
And where I go.
You cannot come.


The crowd knows
that in that moment
they, the Jews will have defeated Rome

Their lives will be free
and the Holy City once choked with blood
will at last become streets of a gold

The crowd dreams of heaven on earth
their favorite innocence
their favorite lie


And there are those
who wait to be told
he is the Christ

There are those
who wait for him to arrive
riding on donkey

To the Sanhedrin
To Caiphas

We let the fire down soon
And like Kitty Genovese
They will look out of their windows

And say to themselves
Better its him
and not me


Nine Inch Nails
will be driven into him
But not a bone will be broken

And some will say
If you are the Son of God
The son of Mithras

Take yourself off this cross
The policy of truth
and bondage

Safeword.

He rides into town
and they hold out the palm
The green flutter of respect impresses him
and reminds

That his suicide
will make him a martyr
And they will think him

A lunatic
A liar

Jerusalem
April 3rd
AD 30
Passover.

Caiphas tears open his shirt
The Church.
Decides.

The great gift of religion.
Organized.
A verdict passed, by rough consensus.

With only Nicodemus and Joseph of Arithmea
who stand against.

And April 7.
A carpenter
Nailed to a wooden cross.

Dies.