I thought it was very interesting, writing a poem from the perspective of Jesus. I wanted to continue the idea...
Hell, I love
everybody. But everybody doesn't love
me. My twelve brothers do. They are supposed
to meet me today. He checked his watch. Am
I late? Oh well. The donkey meandered into town
while people stood and cheered. Palm branches
waved, drying the beads of sweat dripping down
the curve of his nose. That coffee wasn't good
on an empty stomach-where can I get some bread?
He patted the donkey, Are you tired old boy?
Me too.
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