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Poem 4 (Untitled)

By Christopher Martinez

I ordered faith online, not my own.

Brush strokes for profit of prophets to share the wall

Of crosses every Mexican, Catholic mother has—

 

The suffering wall / the reminder of heaven

Wall.

 

On Christ’s not birthday,

I want her to remember the grace of a candle flame:

As South Texas drops below 70 degrees

& joints locked themselves purple,

When her limited field of vision

Requires fields rife with holy color—

 

Neon green stigmata, a funky allure,

Coronas golden around baby Jesus

Promising broken bodies to be mended

 

Someday. Another decor addition

To free a life bounded by god’s gift

How does faith survive Darwin’s cruelty?

I center a mural where a crucifiction once stood.