The Holy

by Carrie L. Krucinski (2015)

The failed suicide in room 408 sees Christ

in the hallway on His way to the day room.

His hair hangs below His pajama collar;

light beams from His face. She is the only one

who notices Him; it’s their little secret. 

Christ’s shirtsleeves are long; He tells everyone

it’s to cover His scars. Crucifixion can be such

a nasty business. In group therapy He tells 

of calling His sister, telling her, it’s time.

The gun under His pillow, bullet in the chamber,

He just needs a witness, an apostle.

She wouldn’t mind cleaning up skull debris 

and bits of brain; their scars are the same.

Sometimes, He forgets who He is, forgetting

to say grace before He cleans His plate. 

Bellevue Literary Review (2015)

Vol. 15 No. 1