Jesus Christ Resurrects at the End

and we wait
          out beyond the last road sign
on the last road out
          at the edge of the last town

          for gold wreathed fingers
skeletal frames
          reaching down
to pluck us each by collars up

and we read
          the decayed words
laughing at the strange sounds
          of a language long gone

         with copper coated tongues
rotted teeth
         split on ivory sinks
of the lost outhouses left behind

and we see
          all that has come before
the petty thrills
          of iron and fiber and ore

          through the last eyes
of the last faces
           on the last corporal bodies
in the haunted past.