jesus on the modern cross

the cross is made of sleek, black steel. the rectangular posts, both vertical and horizontal, are perfect in 90 degree angles and geometric precision. the fullness of the black steel posts is also perfect (though they are empty). jesus is missing from the cross. the cross stands at the top of an Edward Hopper hill. the hill is angular. far in the distance stands a tower, grey, a shape, archetypal.

a man of art climbs the hill in search of the modern cross. he is a sharp man and he carries a knife. a shepherd herding mechanical sheep blindly ascends the hill along its path. the man of art pulls his knife and cuts up through the shepherd's belly. out fly the butterflies, they sing as they fly away "and if i only could, i'd make a deal with god, and I'd get him to swap our places, be running up that road, be running up that hill"

the man of art watches as the joy fills the shepherd, the ecstasy, the freedom from bondage.

if god is love, then the butterflys' departure is an allegory or an algorithm in the computer, the brain, aggregating human happiness and pouring it into the shepherd's soul.

i love with heat. i love with the passion of the fabled christ. i love with the spirit of the animal. i love with the servitude of the maggot. i love with the bravery of the black town. i love with insanity of white racial structural violence. i love with delicate wings, tiny wings, the wings of a common fly. i love with a hermeneutic zeal, examining the text for oppositions. i love with contradiction. bolted to a black cross.

if i only could, (let him be razed),
Anthony