Green bills shimmy onto the stage
floor from hands who gave
them up to a box named “charity”
a plaque: “money is the root of evil”
purge the evil
from your pockets—give
that those praying hands might open palms
to for-give
flushed cheeks
we can no longer fan ourselves with cash
sweat drips down
into a bucket labeled: “holy
water” and we dip our fingers
clean
pass the cup, sip our sweat
our stomachs swell with
sacrifice
still yet uncollected: the water from Jesus’ side
His spit in our ears, the mud in our eyes
given the chance
would we deign
to be divine
Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash
