by Lisa Parker

Spring Lamb

Common day miracles,
saints alive.
The Body of Christ
melts in your mouth
like paper!
Who hasn’t swallowed
the flesh of the Son of God
Savoring flavorless
flour forgiveness,
not knowing whether
to chew.

Seasonal stigmata
a brand of meat
tender as a GI’s virgin vista.
Crucifixion with all the fixin’s
seasoned with the salt
of Mary’s tears,
Complete with mint
jelly genuflection.
Onions sliced
thin as a quarter
make tears fall
like dead wood.
Nestled amongst
Roasted potatoes
A young spring lamb
snug as an untouchable
God. After three days,
the cave was empty,
and we have crisp meat
roasted in a pan.
Feast, then fold
your napkins
like an
origami master.

Crowns, everyone.
Look Christian.
This one’s for Facebook.
Thorns or not,
don’t ever let them
see you suffer.

– – – – –

Lisa Parker is a practicing alphabet alchemist.

lspmag has published several of Parker’s haikus and other poetry since the founding of the magazine. 

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