little jerusalem
from the outside it was a sleepy little town
located hundred miles from anywhere
quaint and well-kept main street
three churches with spiraling steeples
one bank and one grocery store
on the fringes there lived a commune
ordinary families of starving artists
jesus freaks they called themselves
professing the streets were haunted
by witnesses of christ’s hanging
whenever outsiders arrived in town
they were welcomed by apparitions
ghosts of mob’s past peddling
sterling silver crucifixes and
one-way tickets to paradise
april two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
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