I found Jesus
He was malnourished
He was weeping
He was living in the corner of a subway station
I found Jesus
He tried to sell me a used car
The photographs of his family on his desk could have come with the frame
He attended seminars to make me buy what he was selling
I saw in faces and in places
A deep inner groove that did not require explanation
Behind every encounter with another human being is a door
Behind every afternoon is the same afternoon
This time like the negatives of a photo
Inside out, stripped of all affectation
I lost the urge to commit homicide
The day I surrendered control of my mythological soul
I needed something to see me through
From this point on, I can do no wrong
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem