Jesus looks like he’s been training, getting cut
for the day he’ll dig through the dirt, stooping
to save the folks who went below. Suppose him
un-emaciated, un-crucified, gone underground
to undermine these muppets shouting back at him,
bending low to pull their prisoners aside.
In this hell, the well-dead German sketches
Louis Armstrong cheeks on a beast who blows
his horn from milked-out tits, his shofar turned
into a hideous ploughshare. In this hell, you have
to know where you stand, and I must confess,
the demons down here are merely fat monsters,
nothing so furry I would fear them, not so demonic
I would not protect them from any man or savior.
