Jesus in the Bible Belt
Alyssa Prather
Crosses hang on every door
With a Bible in every room.
Sweet tea is paired with a whispered “Amen”
After bowed heads come up for air.
But you won’t find Jesus in the Bible Belt.
You won’t find Him
In the shifted eyes
Of fast-walking people
Who pass a man with a still chest
And track marks on his arm,
A fly on the wall.
You won’t find Him
In the new, money-sewn clothes
Of a white man
Who scoffs at cardboard signs and
Outstretched hands
And tells them to work harder.
You won’t find Him
In the fiery words of a preacher
When he tells his congregation to
“Resist homosexual impulses
Or be dragged to the fiery pits
Because that’s God’s word”
As he looks into the rainbow-colored heart of his son.
You won’t find Him
In the tears
Of a young girl
As she is pelted with trash
And called a terrorist
In the halls of a school
Where she should feel safe to practice
Any religion she chooses.
You won’t find Him
At Ms. Christina’s
Where the sheets
Aren’t for beds
But for people
To make more clear what tattoos
Of swastikas
And white power do not.
You won’t find Him
In the barrel of the gun
Pointed at a jogging Black man
Or in the hands
Of a man driving his truck
Into crowds holding signs reading
Black Lives Matter.
Pack your bags
You poor, lost soul.
Try to find your Messiah here
But trust me when I say
You won’t find Jesus in the Bible Belt.