The ongoing story of Jesus waking up in Chicago, in the body of an agnostic writer,
who is nothing like the Son of God the right-wing Christians watching him expected.

You are welcome to share my work with a link bank... keep getting asked this...

Last time I was here, I told them I would not lead a revolution, that I was there to spread heresy. The crowds thinned. The day they killed me, I marched alone... This time I have returned to find Romes Soldiers Sleeping, content they have killed off the Troublesome Jew. I was surprised how bloody the Indiana boy became as my sword fell again and again ....

In the years since this story began in 2007, my secret fame has spread out from the halls of power that kept me secret all these years, as they waited for the Christ to finally wake up...

I try to imagine their anticipation.

Remember a dream I had in my twenties about running thru Chicago screaming that Christ was coming back, and man oh man was I happy... a cloud came through the middle of the skyscrapers above me, in the thin strip of blue above Dowtown State street, and I expected to see Christ... instead, just a bunch of musicians painted up like Ziggy stardust.

I surprised my keepers. They thought they had me figured out from the Bible. If that book could have told you everything, there would be no need at all for me.

Jesus: "I have become Known across this planet as a dangerous man with a growing force of hidden followers who value my orders more than life itself. A prophet of war. Once and future King in a court of shadows. Life and death in my hands every damn day. I ROAR, your most mighty shit themselves and run. I make myself a known threat, so I can try to negotiate what otherwise requires bullets and blood. I am here to free the enslaved in body and mind. I cannot be defeated. When the Will of God and The WILL OF THE PEOPLE ARE ONE, NO FORCE ON EARTH CAN STOP US!"


We come into this life expecting too much and leave expecting too little

Tuesday, April 29, 2008


Penguins all over the world are spinning in circles so fast that they appear like black and white blurs as they scream again and again, "Oh, the shits with you!' Visitors to zoos across the world responded differently to the odd behavior on the part of the notoriously unruly aquatic waterfowl.

At New York zoo, the cursing penguins were pelted with empty cans of coke and admonished to "put up some amusing antics, or get the hell out." Surprisingly enough, the normally unarmed penguins returned fire with doubled barreled shotguns, taking out large swathes of the crowds gathered in front of their stage, and making for a few tense moments with a swat team before the police force THEW DOWN THEIR WEAPONS AND Surrendered to the penguins and joined them in their cages spinning around in circles screaming, "Oh, the shits wit ya!!"

When President W heard about the mass exodus of new York?s finest to the penguins, he told white house reporters, "You know what we have here? We have an animal terrorist event!!! You know, chickens, for some reason, all had it out for my father. Fuck em, and all the birds. We don't need em, not if they're terrorists. And they are -- terrorist animals!!! I won't have this, not on my watch!!!"

The increasingly unstable W. is said to now be traveling with three nuclear bombs in his briefcase in case 'God tells me to blow stuff up and kill everybody again."

The president is canvassing the senate and congress today trying to drum up support for his plan to, quote, ". . . take out all the other animals, once and fucking for all. "

The president was speaking to a shocked group of parents and young children at the unveiling of a new wing of The Monica GRAMMER SCHOOL Library, which is devoted to the memory of some of the finest head a president has got on the oval office since the height of Elenor Roosevelts famed mastery of what president R, affectionatly referred to as 'tongue toodilng.' W barked out loud and mean to the crowd of crying children, "I've been thinking about getting bit by this squirrel when I was a kid, or at least I'm thinking about it now. Who the hell can tell? And this bird... that fucking bird that messed up the grill on one of the very first cars dad bought me. Well, I wrote in a paper for some damn class about how men had been at war with wild animals since leaving Eden . . . maybe it was a sermon I heard somewhere -- don't knock me about my memory, for god's sake, not after you cows voted for reagan, who couldn't, I swear to god, remember to wipe his ass by his second year in office. . , and you people act like I need to know some foreigner's name, and what stupid, poor country they are paid... well, assholes, it's time you woke up and leanedI ain't paid to know, I am paid to make you fuckers tremble until I get my goddamn way."

Still no comment from the penguins. Other puffins have yet to emerge, and all are still presumed dead.

You are welcome to spread my poems by whatever means... they are yours... unless you make some money off of me and then I would like some. Is that too much to ask? No. I have a family, too;.

1 comment:

kimchinam58 said...