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I Saw Jesus in a Minivan by Leigh Chadwick



I saw Jesus in a minivan. I think it was a Dodge. We were idled next to each other at a red light. Jesus was sitting in the driver’s seat, a cherry slushie in his left hand, the straw pressed between his lips. The windows of the minivan were cracked. He was listening to “Psycho Killer” by the Talking Heads. I listened to him listen to “Psycho Killer” by the Talking Heads. I wanted to follow him to wherever he was going, see if I could buy him a beer. I wanted to sit in the back booth of a bar and ask him if he knew who smoked the last clove cigarette. If he had a favorite ocean. If the Dead Sea was always supposed to be called that. If stairs were created so hips would have an excuse to break. If he ever swallowed mistletoes in the basement of a brothel. I needed to know if he knew what the river hides. From the minivan, David Byrne was singing Psycho Killer/Qu'est-ce que c'est. The light turned green. A quarter mile down the road the concrete rippled. Neither of us moved.



Leigh Chadwick is the author of a chapbook, Daughters of the State (Bottlecap Press, 2021), a poetry coloring book,This Is How We Learn How to Pray(ELJ Editions, 2021) and the full-length poetry collection,Wound Channels(ELJ Editions, 2022). Her writing has appeared or is forthcoming inSalamander,Heavy Feather Review,Schuylkill Valley Journal,Indianapolis Review, ONE ART, andBending Genres, among others. Find her on Twitter at @LeighChadwick5.

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