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Mandy Coe

THE JESUS LIZARD

Machines bring sunlight
crashing into the jungle.
Sawdust rises
then settles on the lake so
fish leap and spit.
I don't walk on water, really
I tread light.
I open my green hands and feet,
spread them
like a deck of cards.
One time, the sap-spray
roared red.
Jesus ! Someone cried: Jesus !
I ran on sky, on the rippled
reflections of trees, the spill of sunset.