Perhaps Jesus just
faked his death to skip paying
for the Last Supper.

He thought his mind was
a steel trap, but really it
was just dummy-locked.

Her widow’s veil was
black cobweb behind which she
licked her scarlet lips.

“Eyes lie,” he would say.
“Watch the hips as they pivot.”
True in fights, and sex.

Like a Rubik’s cube
rhyming poetry must be
puzzled out by turns.

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