You want to hear a resurrection story? I’ll tell you A resurrection story. I saw a squirrel get squished In the street. This was on Ash Street, near where a Family named Penance lives. Things like this rivet Me. Religions don’t live in churches. Religions are Not about religion, in the end; they’re vocabularies. This squirrel got hammered. I mean, a car ran right Over it, and the car sped down the hill, and I recall Thinking that some dog would soon be delighted to Be rolling ecstatically in squirrel oil, but then, even As I watched, the animal resumed its original shape And staggered off into the laurel thicket, inarguably Alive and mobile, if somewhat rattled and unkempt. Jesus and Lazarus must have known that feeling, of Being sore in every joint, and utterly totally fixated On a shower and coffee and a sandwich. Or walnuts, Depending, I suppose, on species. Our current form Is a nebulous idea, is what I am trying to say. Could It be that resurrections are normal and the one we’re Always going on about in the Christian mythologies Is only One a long time ago, when there are millions Per day? Could there be an insect Jesus and a badger Jesus and a salmon Jesus? Could there be impossible Zillions of Jesuses? Isn’t that really the whole point?