They Shoot Horses

There stood Christ, a defiant Christ,
Christ without a halo.
He shared his spots, his damage and scars.
Even his before and after.

An advocate of cruise
A disciple of God.
His first step red then blue, then bad.

He kissed for fear.
He kissed for courage.
He kissed for moon cakes
For the lives of the freaks.

With a peppermint heart.
His conscience child-proofed
Him from himself.

He’d show for Joe
And for the cold, brutal water.
He’d hunger for everything,
To forget what he thought.

He’d shoot at the air
And break off the mirrors.
He’d top-coat the border
With a bottle of tan
And thank all the dealers
And blame all the blame.

The weather was fair
The judge was fair
The air was still
The canyon clear.

Then came Christ, a defiant Christ
Pulling down the trail,
His light had dimmed
His tan had faded

He ate his aura
And held his breath,
Took deadly aim,
And shot the horse.