Big hands, I know you're the one
Millions and millions of people were there. Some are still there.
Glimpse at those big hands. Hands so big all they do is win.
We are smarter than we were yesterday, than we were
Five minutes ago, than we were the last time he picked
Up a pen. The money is on its way, it's just trickling.
Living is a privilege.
The rope was already there. It came with the tree.
The noose tied itself.
What happened is he tripped.
I mean he jumped.
I mean he was flying and he tripped on a cloud.
I mean how else did he get up there?
It doesn’t matter, logistics is for the birds.
A white robe never hurt anyone, and a fist is just that.
What really happened is he ran straight toward the bullets.
The other he ran straight toward the bullets, too.
Times those last two lines by a million. Times them by a million
times a billion. Follow it with an ellipsis.
Birds think about poets just as often as poets think about birds.
And God tweeted, The best religion is this one.
Twitter is the new burning bush, the one true voice of God.
Parents be planned, Jesus never thought
About sex, not even once, not even splayed out
On a pile of hay as the wind blew against the hair
He just grew into. Mom, relax, these cigarettes won’t kill me.
Drill what we were given. The dinosaurs knew we
Were coming and that’s why they let themselves die.
About the Author: C.J. Miles lives in Iowa with his wife. His poetry has appeared in Forklift, Ohio; Cease, Cows; Moonglasses Magazine; Jet Fuel Review; and Unbroken Journal. More of his work can be found here.