My name is Podrigotuma and one of the things I love about some poems is how they reveal

themselves in vulnerability.

You know, when you write a poem, you can often, or let me speak for myself, I can often

go over a poem for six months before I show it to anyone, polishing the lines, making

sure it all works.

And so much of that is about heart, but you're also trying to come across as a craft person.

But I love poems that show their own mistakes deliberately and use that in order to show

something about what's happening while you're writing the poem.

I feel sorry for Jesus by Naomi Shiebnai.

I feel sorry for Jesus.

People won't leave him alone.

I know he said, wherever two or more are gathered in my name, but I'll bet some days he regrets

it.

Cosily, they tell you what he wants and doesn't want, as if they just got an email.

Remember telephone that pass it on game where the message changed dramatically by the time

it rounded the circle?

Well, people blame terrible piety on Jesus.

They want to be his special pet.

Jesus deserves better.

I think he's been exhausted for a very long time.

He went into the desert, friends.

He didn't go into the pump.

...