By Katie Ailes
Jesus came into my Starbucks today
Ordered a caramel machiato
no whipped cream
I saw his cross behind him
Like so many sandbags
Dark musky aura
stirred with his pinky finger out
And burned his tongue when he sipped.
I looked for golden bubbles on his lips
When he said ‘Thanks.’
I must have blinked,
for all I saw was a need for Chapstick.
When he walked out,
I found a splinter of his cross
on the tiled floor.
I swept it into the dustbin
With the rest of the refuse of the
children of God.